Graduation::Gradual
by Tabi
Summary: Yaoi. TakumuxYoshikuni, YoshikunixKeigo. After school, even after university, Yoshikuni still finds it difficult to believe that he could ever feel for someone the way he felt for Takumu. Yoshikuni didn't bet on Keigo's quiet determination.
1. Graduation: Prelude

~1~

Graduation: Prelude

Our final week, and it was all over.

There was nothing more to be said. We had left our mark on a microcosm of society that would move on and change and in five years, we could revisit Seirei and find it all different. Four years. Two years. Half a year.

For all that we had known, it was now unimportant. All that was important was important only to us and we would leave and take that with us, but realise that what had been important, now wasn't. Perhaps that was what it meant to grow up. Perhaps that was what it meant to leave things behind. Perhaps, to grow up, we need to leave things behind. Maybe to leave things behind, we need to grow up. During our long years concealed in those walls we'd had no knowledge of this. As we stood on the school roof on that day before our graduation, I wonder if the three of us had realised that, just a little.

I left the Student Council building that day feeling a particular small kind of loneliness. There was a kind of melancholy to be gained from merely standing anywhere upon the school's campus, to look at the walls and paths and people we'd known for what felt like so long and to know that our time to be cut so short so soon. It all seemed... almost silly, in retrospect. Those important things, the things that had ended, the things that wouldn't carry on, this school that always would. I stood in the main meeting hall with the heavy light of the late afternoon filtered through the tall windows and thought of what I'd gained, what I'd lost, and wondered which was greater in magnitude; both could, however, be summed up by one simple word, one singular name.

Takumu.

He was that which I gained and all that I lost. Oh, Takumu.

In the past, I'd wondered if what I felt was wrong. Feelings for a friend, for a boy, for--... just for _him_. They seemed wrong in a masochistic sense; I didn't want him _because_ I wanted him. He told me that it wasn't wrong to want and then punished me for my newfound yearning. We were both wrong. We both wanted more from each other than we were willing to give, these two things so separate. We both wanted everything and learnt we couldn't handle it, we found small reasons to pick apart our larger problems. I demanded more and more of him, knowing that he'd break but hoping that he wouldn't and he broke, he broke away from me and left me broken. I wondered if it was too easy to judge myself as so, especially after I let my manner slip. When I took joy in pain, when I thought it was alright to hurt others because they weren't Takumu and if they weren't Takumu then they were unimportant. I suppose I did it because I wanted him to notice and I wanted him to hurt, but if he ever did then I didn't know of it. In my desperation, I only wanted him to notice me. He did notice, but he didn't care. That was worse than anything else.

Now I wonder, perhaps he did care. Maybe. One of these questions that will never be answered. Maybe he knew that showing any weakness would be to provide me with a weapon, thought that if he didn't notice me then maybe I'd stop trying to get his attention. To show emotion would be to let me enter again, to work myself back into his consciousness and to drag us both down to that destructive cycle we hated and loved both at once. When we'd be alone together, we'd make each other hurt. We hurt each other because we _knew that we could_. He was as bad as I was, though I think I might have been the only one to witness that. Nobody would believe me if I were to say and by now, to say would only be to stir nostalgia. These events of years past are only the business of memory, now.

In even these two years of being on the Student Council, things changed so much, so hard, so terribly, so awfully, so wonderfully all at once. I would look at the class photo of my first year and see myself, see those eyes which I considered as not knowing this pain. You and I, myself... which of us are better off? The you who knew nothing or the I who knows too much? We have our strengths and weaknesses. You, with your wanton happiness and cheerful demeanour, that nervousness that came from innocence. I, with the steady melancholy and the constant knowledge of loss, the gain of experience not seeming worth the expenditure. And yet this is how things happened and they can't be changed, so I put the photo away.

I left the Student Council building and stood facing the fountain, the school buildings just beyond. These walls that had heard so much and would tell of nothing. These paths I'd walked with him and would now walk from alone. Summer was not far away but we would not be here to bear witness; summer would be quite different to us now. To work or to university, wherever we went would not be here and for that, already it felt as if we were strangers in somewhere we'd taken for granted all these years. Even the expectation of leaving felt alien in the reality of the situation once we left.

I stood on the empty track, dust kicked aside from previous practice. I wondered if it was alright to feel hurt, alright to feel betrayed, alright to feel lost... I wanted to go back to him and ask him these things and hear his comforting answer and the knowledge that I couldn't felt all the worse. He had been my fallback, I'd relied on him and relied on him too much. Being without him was now like falling through an endless sky, too lost in myself to notice the beauty of the clouds around me. This all felt empty, somehow. It was the end of an era and I didn't care. I'd be leaving these places I was so used to and this thought moved me little enough to be of no consequence. If I stayed here or if I went somewhere else, none of it really mattered. I was set to go to university, this was of no concern. I didn't care. I could take care of those matters like a machine if I could set aside my thoughts for long enough. Even that seemed like it might be a problem.

Very little moved me and I hated it. Even Takumu's actions had become something distant, something I didn't want to bother myself with. I knew that if I knew of his business it would only hurt more, so I tried to ignore him. I couldn't ignore him. All I learnt of his happiness only brought me the opposite; how dare he let himself be happy! How could he even smile? Even if it were only a facade, I didn't care. He had the strength to put up a facade and I felt like I didn't have the strength for anything at all. My world had been Takumu and without him, even the world was nothing. It was all pointless now; even to have him back would be to acknowledge what had happened, and who could forgive him for that? I couldn't trust him anymore. I knew how he'd hurt me and he knew what I was capable of as well as what I wasn't. This pain had broken that innocence. We couldn't go back to what we had been and I felt like I couldn't move on at all.

My time at Seirei ending felt almost like a relief, albeit an awful one. Takumu was planning to continue his careers both academic and financial in America, I was set to remain in Japan as I went through university. We never did anything by halves, either of us; if we were going to be split apart, then maybe it was just as well that we would be in different countries. He planned to go into acting. Maybe he'd become famous. Why did he have to have such high-reaching aims? If he released a film, I knew I'd go and watch it. I'd see his present self and remember how he was and remember how we were, and that he would even provide the opportunity seemed as cruel as ever we were. My aims were not so creative and likely I'd remain unable to reach him. If I really tried then perhaps I could, but who would want to? I knew there was nothing between us anymore.

I hated to be so melodramatic. I hated wanting to talk but feeling unable to. I hated that it felt like my world had stopped turning, that life had been drained of its colour, that he could continue and _I_ had stopped. I hated that being alive forced me to continue, but I never considered death. The only prospect worse than existing in a reality with Takumu was that of existing - or not - in one without him and if nothing else, I was guilty of many things and living would be that penance. To die would be too easy and I never took the easy way out. Figures such as Kondou might have delighted in that thought but even if just for Aihara's sake, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Aihara would be the next leader of the Student Council. I trusted him to take care of it as I had done, but this felt like an empty promise. I'd trained him so much and so hard and now he bent so deliciously to my will and I felt that might have been a victory if I'd been able to feel something from it. Though he always said Kondou's name, as was perhaps to be expected. He was tainted by me but couldn't let go of him. Was I at fault?... Yes, yes I was. I couldn't be forgiven for such things and yet the only part of me that felt guilt was the part that felt guilty for _not_ feeling guilty. I had started to break others with all the interest that one overlooks an insect, momentarily taken by vague interest which was then quickly lost. Is it wrong to kill an insect? There are thousands more, but a life is still a life. Isn't it? It wasn't only Aihara, though he was my most intense project.

There were quite a few things I felt I should feel bad for and yet only felt bad for feeling nothing, and more than Aihara was the matter of Katsuragi.

Of Keigo.

Of the person who stood by me steadfastly no matter what the situation, who took the pain and endured it because of me. Because it was me. And I hurt him because I knew I could, because I knew he'd take it, because he was selfless and kind and thought that by absorbing my attack, I might eventually run out of ammunition. The human heart is not such a finite thing, but I think he knew that. He knew that maybe even more than I did and yet I wonder if he knew it at all. He, I suppose, was less the kind of person to question such things as opposed to I, who questioned things too much. He'd offer his all to me and I'd decline without knowing a reason when really, he had no reason to give. To him, things just _were_.

I clung to my terms and conditions because I thought they were how I could stop myself from being hurt. He had no terms or conditions for precisely the same reason.

He stayed by my side and I barely noticed him. He was as much a comfort and fallback as Takumu ever was - even moreso for knowing Takumu's failings - and yet for the simple reason that he _was not_ Takumu, I couldn't accept that. I took what he offered without really considering or appreciating it; I wonder if he ever cared about that. If engaging with the subject was as important as being present with the subject in the first place. If he did care about such things then he never said anything but being verbally straightforward was never his strategy and yet he proved, sometimes, that this was not through simple inability. He just didn't like to.

The day before graduation, I stood on the empty school grounds as the meaningless sunlight fell around me and I wondered if _this_ was all that there was. If the joy now forgotten would always be forgotten and if this bland view of the world would permeate everything. I supposed that, if it did, I would reach the point where I didn't care. Perhaps that was my ultimate fate and if that were so, then I should just resign myself to it.

Usually Keigo remained with me through the day and would accompany me on the way home. That day he seemed to be missing; I thought about heading home by myself and I thought about finding him. Given how doggedly he followed me through our day to day lives I supposed it only fair to try to find him this once, so close to the end of term. I found him, eventually, on the school roof.


	2. Graduation: Movement

~2~

Graduation: Movement

I might as well have not been there but for once, I didn't mind.

The sunlight would carry through the evening. Those who came to the roof after school often wished for sunset but at this time of year, one would have to stay in-school for a lot longer than usual. Best to wait for the seasons to move once more, only we no longer had the luxury of waiting for anything anymore. We'd have to find our own vantage point as our lives spread out and away from here.

As it was, we still had this roof. Frequented by some, I didn't visit often. On that day I made my way up the stairwell and I could see the blue sky and the occasional harmless cloud and the birds that flew past and directly opposite me, leaning against the railings, was Katsuragi. I made to say his name in the fraction of a second it took me to realise that he wasn't alone; stood beside him, also leant against the railings, was Takumu.

It seemed strange to see the two of them together. For being united by being on the Student Council, Takumu and Katsuragi were two who had little to do with one another, moreso once Katsuragi were to learn of the relationship between Takumu and myself. I would ask Katsuragi what he thought of Takumu and he would say little. "_He offends me_". I understood that. He offended me, too. This didn't seem to stop me loving him despite that, though.

I think perhaps Katsuragi asked Takumu to join him on the roof. If the two of them genuinely didn't notice me then I accepted that, but more I could accept that Katsuragi was ignoring me and Takumu didn't want to acknowledge my presence. This was a meeting that didn't require my attendance and time was running out for it to take place; if Katsuragi had something he needed to say... well. There seemed very little that Katsuragi felt he _needed_ to say, so that by itself was worth noting. By the time of these last days, these last _hours_ on Seirei's soil, there were no secrets left to keep, only resolutions to take and leave as we saw fit. And Katsuragi stared at Takumu for long enough for me to be curious as of his motive before I heard him speak, soft and even as he always was but for that and his words, the venom only increased. Katsuragi was the kind who never got angry because he knew he could inspire more fear by remaining calm, always using this to his best advantage. He was kind and gentle, or at least he _could_ be kind and gentle; he was also a member of the Student Council, which brought with it its own responsibility. I would never have let him onto the Council in the first place had I not thought him capable of what I required him for.

He spoke, addressing Takumu.

"_... I hate you._"

I'd never heard Katsuragi make such a blunt statement towards anyone before, but I held my tongue. The wind stirred the warm air around us and I merely stood and listened. A lesser pair might have got angry, might have resorted to fists and violence... but, essentially, this was not a statement of warning. Katsuragi was not telling Takumu he hated him as a threat, he meant it simply as a fact.

"_I hate you, Kirihara._"

Takumu didn't turn to look at Katsuragi, nor did he seem at all surprised by this. "_... I know._"

"_I hate what you've done to him._"

"... _I don't have anything to say to that._"

Apologise, Takumu. Feel sorry. Feel guilty. Feel terrible. Feel _something_.

Watching them between the silence, I felt distant, like an outsider. This conversation concerned me but ignored me.

"... _I also have to thank you, Kirihara._"

"... _What?_" Takumu turned to look at Katsuragi, now.

"_... For what you've done to him._"

"_I don't follow._"

"_You gave him to me._"

"_I--!... What he does is his own business._"

A long silence between the three of us. Between the two of them.

"_Wada--... Wada is the kind of person who pursues his interests with the full force of his passions. Being the top-scoring student in the school, making his way to a top university, always aiming high... we all know this, don't we? Who better to know it than someone who couldn't handle those passions._"

"_... Katsuragi..._"

"_I have always admired Wada for that quality. Even in his darkest moments, if nothing else, he gave the situation all that he could muster. Even if his actions were unforgivable, isn't that admirable? To be able to give everything for the sake of a goal?_"

"_... I think that really depends on the goal. You can't really be suggesting that just because he tried his hardest, that made it all okay? If that's really true then you're worse than I thought you were, jeez._"

"_You simply couldn't handle his feelings._"

"_Yeah, but who could? If that's what you want to do then you're welcome to him. I--... I couldn't. I just couldn't, Katsuragi._"

"_He would have given everything for you, Kirihara._"

"_I never asked for anything like that!_"

"_But you led him on, didn't you? He trusted you, he trusted you entirely. And you betrayed that. And for that, I can't forgive you._"

"... _I know._"

I know you know, Takumu. Tell him something more than that. Tell him more than you ever told me. Tell me something that at least _tries_ to satisfy this hurt inside, this gap that you left. You're standing in front of me, but it's like you're a different person. I can see you, but you're gone from me. I don't know if I can handle that. Back then, at least, I didn't think I could. I'd learn that the simple act of living brings its own kind of comfort, but at that time, I couldn't know any of that. I simply watched them, wondering how I could only watch but knowing I couldn't disturb either of them.

"_But you gave him to me. I don't know how I should feel about that._"

"_Damned if I know. It's not like I put a ribbon on him and put him through your mailbox._"

"_... No, I mean--... this is difficult for me to say, Kirihara. But, if it hadn't been for you, then likely he would never have come to me. So I both hate you and thank you at once. To even think of how you treated him, I can hardly bear to think about it. Yet for how things worked out, I don't dare to think of how they might have turned out differently. Isn't that strange? Is it even possible to hate and love somebody both at once?_"

"_... Maybe._"

"_You're not very talkative, Kirihara. Usually I'm the quiet one, am I not?_"

"_Yeah, well. You're the one who asked me out here in the first place..._"

"_So don't you have more to say about that?_"

Takumu stared at Katsuragi for quite some time before he spoke again.

"_At you saying you hate me? Well, I guess that's kind of sad... I mean, maybe you and I haven't got on as well as we might have done, but you're not the kind of person who says something like that if he doesn't mean it, and if that's true, then... I never meant to make you hate me, Katsuragi. I know we probably won't see each other a lot after this, but... it's a shame, because I never meant anything against you. I've always thought you were a good guy, so if you don't like me... I don't blame you, because I know how you feel about Yoshikuni. But I know how I feel about him too, and I can't change that._" A smile. "_Maybe someday we can meet up under better circumstance._"

"_... And how do you feel about him?_"

"_You said it as well yourself. I--... I just can't... handle him, I suppose. He's too much for me. I couldn't be enough for him because he always wanted more from me, more that I just couldn't give. Isn't that understandable? Isn't there just one point where you realise you physically and mentally just can't give anymore? He made me reach that point. We... neither of us were ready for what we were feeling. I think we scared each other._"

"_Don't put words into his mouth._"

"_... I wasn't ready for it. I want to say I would have given him everything, but realistically? There are always going to be other commitments, and... if he can't realise that about other people, well, I can only wish him luck trying to find someone who can really give him all the attention he needs because it's far more than I can give, I know that much. He's got his own passions, hasn't he? I couldn't give up modelling as much as he could give up being the top-scoring student. It's a completely separate thing!... Sorry, Katsuragi. I shouldn't be taking this all out on you, it's not your fault._"

"_Would you take him back?_"

Katsuragi could ask such questions so easily. I felt light-headed, watching as if I didn't exist, as if these lives playing out in front of me were nothing to do with my own life or feelings.

"... _I don't think so. Not now. Not after everything that happened._"

That felt both like the most damning attack and biggest relief I could have heard. Such a large part of me wanted him back and wanted him immediately, but the more sensible part of me knew that such feelings were stupid. Indeed, hadn't that been my own line of thought? That, after everything that had happened, the two of us were too tainted to be able to carry on. We'd always know of that shadow that once existed between us and too many hurtful things had been said. I'd never wanted him to give up his modelling, I'd only wanted his attention, to feel special, like I mattered to him more than those other commitments. And I knew that I couldn't, but it would have been nice for him to pretend, though I knew he wouldn't. Maybe I did want more of him than he was able to give, but what _was_ that? What more _could_ he have given? If asked, I'm not sure I could have said.

Takumu's next line hurt as much as anything else.

"_... Will you look after him?_"

"_I'll do my best._"

"_If it's you, then I trust you for that. Look after him for me, Katsuragi. Because I couldn't._"

"_I'm not sure I like feeling as if I'm in your debt for something like this, Kirihara..._"

"_Just because things didn't work out between us doesn't mean he's a person I'm not going to worry about. We were so close, he--... he seemed to have so much sadness, and I think in the end that I only made that worse. So... if someone can look after him better than I did, then... then I can feel a little better about what happened._"

Takumu never did apologise, though.

(As we walked away afterward, he did have a faint look of surprise. I wonder if it was for realising my presence, or perhaps just for realising that he'd been dressed down so sharply by _Katsuragi_ of all people; either explanation was adequate.)


	3. University: Stalling

~3~

University: Stalling

Life settled into its own routine once we left Seirei.

There were many people I remembered who I would likely never see nor hear from again, and for the most case this wasn't something I felt particularly for. Those people had been involved in my life so far as social interaction, but had left no definite impact. Being a member of the Student Council - the leader, even - and a member of KISS, it was only natural that I would leave more of an impression on others than they would leave upon myself. I seemed to get several emails a week even into my later years of education from girls I had known from school - and they were nearly always from girls - asking if I remembered them, asking how I was getting on now... and in that circumstance I supposed lying the better option, for many of them I didn't remember. However, wasn't the goal of KISS to make the girls of the school special, to make each and every one of them feel like a princess? Even though those days were long gone, it brought a small smile of nostalgia as I typed those replies, thinking of how I was still upholding our creed. Those silly things that meant nothing, those old traditions passed down to us, they seemed stupid and maybe they _were_ stupid, but they were harmless, I think.

It wasn't too far in to my first term at university that I received that one email from Takumu. It felt unfair; even seeing that address in my inbox felt like an internal stab. I could only stare at it, seeing the letters while barely even reading them, finding it hard even to perform the two mouse clicks it took to open the email and actually read it. I managed it though, finding the email itself quite stiff in its presentation but perfectly acceptable for someone so distant. No use in being overly familiar to someone like me, is there? Is there, Takumu? He left me his change of email address, his mobile phone number, his home address, his address in America. Contact details, assuming I felt the need and had the strength to contact in the first place; the former I felt too much and the latter I felt too little.

... _How are you these days, Takumu?_

_I'm doing as well as can be expected._

I'll tell you about my life at university, the friends I've made, the people I've met, the subjects I'm taking, the courses I've done. It's quite different for you, isn't it? Being in a different country.

_Did you manage to polish up on your English?_

You were always asking me to help you with that.

Too many times I pressed '_compose mail_' and set to write him an email. So many times I did so, not even knowing what I wanted to say - only knowing that I wanted to talk to him, speak to him, contact him, let him know I was still alive.

_Do you remember me, Takumu?_

_Do you remember us?_

_Do you think about me?_

_Do you remember what we were?_

_Do you remember what you meant to me?_

_Do you remember what you said I meant to you?_

_Do you look back on your schooldays fondly?_

_Do you regret what we became?_

I'd close the editor. However many times I typed these questions, I knew I'd never send them. True to myself, I never did.

_What was I to you, Takumu?_

I knew inside that, truthfully, sending such an email by this point was far, far too late. He'd never answered my questions when we were face-to-face and I didn't feel he'd be any more talkative for being on the other side of a computer screen. You could ignore an email far easier than you could someone's eyes, and he'd even managed that quite easily. Those long silences I hadn't been able to bear, I could bear the thought of them even less for our distance. I could send you all manner of emails and not know if you'd got them, if you'd read them, even - the 'delete' key is so easy to use, after all.

Of course, in America, you've got your new life, haven't you? Branching out, still successful... I see articles about you on the internet, I read about you in magazines, I see your face on advertisements. We remember our export. I'm glad that you're successful but I rather hate it; sometimes I'd like to live my life without having constant reminders of you all around me, though I know that even if you weren't a famous model and budding actor, this would be practically impossible. Too much reminds me of you to forget you, Takumu. Even this planet is one we both share, isn't it? So I can't relax, not like this.

_I'm sorry, Takumu._

I don't know what I'm apologising for anymore.

_I'm_

_sorry_

_sorry_

I want to email you and tell you everything, though you knew it all to begin with. I want to tell you my problems, I want to hear your kind words, I want to add the _p.s_ on the end of everything you knew and patch it up with things I've learnt. I want to tell you what I've learnt, I want to tell you what I'm feeling, I want you to know that I just don't think I can stand this. There's no other option and there's no way out, but the frustration is enough to make me want to tell you. Part of me wants to make you feel bad, make you feel guilty for

_what you've done to me _

_I can't stand it_

_Stop it stop it stop it_

_leave me alone_

_leave me alone_

_I want to live_

_I want to live_

_I want to live and I want to love and I want to be happy and you spoilt that you spoilt it you spoilt it all Takumu this is your fault_

_this is your fault_

_you did this to me_

_look at what i've become takumu look at what you've done _

_look at me look at this look at me i want you to look at me i want you to be here looke look lookn looking at me_

_look_

_at_

_me_

_and_

_look_

_at_

_what_

_I've_

_become_

_look at what I've become_

"... I nearly emailed him again today."

"... You mustn't."

"I know. I mean, I didn't. I wouldn't, you know what I'm like--"

"Still. '_Almost_' is too close, Wada."

"That's why I called you."

"... I know. I just wish I could be there for you."

Still always so blunt, Katsuragi. Still using my last name like we were still distant classmates. Maybe that distance is what lets you be so blunt, I don't know.

"You _are_ there for me, Katsuragi. Would I be phoning you if you weren't?"

A silence.

"I--... I'm trying to say thank you, Katsuragi. Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He never replies to things like that. They were never much my style to say to him when we were in school, either. There was a lot I should have said to him that I didn't, perhaps it's the distance and the lack of reaction the phone gives us that I feel able to say these things to him, but he's just as bad. It's simply the truth, that's all it is. The truth can be a powerful thing; Takumu couldn't handle what I thought was my truth, back then in our youth. Takumu couldn't accept that and Katsuragi never knew it; he remained by my side for so long and there was so much I didn't tell him, so much he didn't know, so much I didn't want to trust him with. Because I knew I _could_ trust him with anything, but that... that was beside the point. The point was, _Takumu_. He was all. However, it's not Takumu I call when I feel it all slipping away from me, is it...

I could never email Takumu, I knew this even back then. The urge to email him seemed to depend on my mood; for all of my feeling on him, even as the years advanced - or maybe _because_ the years advanced - some days felt better than others. Some days I could almost smile freely, feel a happiness that didn't have a source and feel detached from my problems, even if only for a short while. Those were the better moods. The worse moods... those were the ones where I typed so fervently, when everything in my mind tumbled onto the screen and I _would_ send it I _would_ send it I _had_ to send it I couldn't _not_ send it--

However, I never did.

To email Takumu would have been, I suppose, to represent the last loss my dignity - what little of it remained - could sustain. To email him everything, to tell him I couldn't cope without him, that even if he hated me I wanted him to tell me this only so it would be him telling me _something_. To return to him with my tail between my legs, to sacrifice what little progress I might have made for the sake of going back to what was familiar. We couldn't go back to what we were but this didn't stop me imagining that we could, that I would email him my troubles and he would reply as if nothing had happened between us at all, for me to be defenceless in a caged world where I could only be happy. If this was freedom, then I didn't want it. In those darker moods, even the loss of dignity seemed appealing; I wanted to give you everything, Takumu. _Everything_. Control me, tell me what to do, tell me what to feel, let me rely on you and let me rely on you _completely_. I don't want to know anything in this life that isn't you. You're the most important thing. You're the only thing. You held me in surrender since those first weeks of our meeting, I want to surrender to you. Entirely.

Of course, these thoughts aren't realistic. The fevered thoughts of a panicked mind, what _would_ Takumu have thought were he to know them? As much as I let my imagination run wild, I couldn't realistically imagine any scenario where he would not come to see these thoughts as pathetic, to marvel at how time had passed and yet I had not changed. I could see his cruel smile in my mind, could see this as the weapon for his next attack. As much as memory painted him kindly, I remembered his callous, vicious side also. Who would have thought it of their beloved school idol? Not I.

"... _Kuni... my Kuni..._

_my only Kuni... you're mine, aren't you?_

_You'll never let go_

_because I'll never let you._

_Kuni, beloved._

_Isn't that what you want me to say?_

_If I hold you like this? Touch you here? Isn't this what you want?_

_Yes..._

_Like that, again..._

_... my Kuni..._

_... oh..._"

People called me cruel and yes, I admit that I was.

I don't like to think I was ever _that_ cold, though. Takumu knew too much about me, could say these things and know that every one of them would hit the mark because I'd told him where I was vulnerable and he took advantage of that so terribly. I too was unforgivable, but for those I held, I never knew so much. Even Aihara's lips remained largely sealed when it came to how he felt about our situation. I knew how he felt about Kondou, and that was his precious thing and it never even occurred to me to touch that. Aihara's feelings for Kondou were something entirely separate and not my business to use. Aihara came to me for help, I granted that in what twisted way the myself of that time saw fit. And maybe Aihara hates me, but he still emails every Sunday to tell me how he is, what he's doing, how things are for him now. He's still with Kondou. I haven't seen him for years and I think maybe it's best that way. If I saw him then I wouldn't be able to resist him and I know that, after all those years of training, he wouldn't be able to resist me, either. His body would betray the things his mind strove to protect and such things tire me now. Those games we played as children, the battles we fought with weapons we didn't know how to wield... we caused far too much damage, Aihara being my living proof of that. Myself being Takumu's. Perhaps to forget and move on is the only way he can deal with this and for that, I suppose, I admire him. To even be able to move on is a strength I don't see myself as possessing.

And to email him would be to pull all that back, wouldn't it? To leave myself open and invite what pain he felt happy to inflict. To hear that soft voice speak harsh words so kindly, if that happened even once more I don't think I'd be able to take it. The Takumu that only I saw, that nobody would believe... no, these things are better left in the past. People admire him as a model, seeing his picture and talking of his alluring poses, his knowing smiles, those eyes that seem as if they could hold the endless depths of the world and still more and they don't want to know, even if they don't know it. I've known some, I've seen too much and I know he isn't kind, I know he's not the prince I first thought he was. And yet my mind still thinks of him fondly as such, ignoring the pain for the sake of the happiness he brought me. As humans, we are like that, aren't we? It's too easy to forget the painful things... and yet even to say that, his memory still hurts. It hurts to think of the loss of the happiness. Shouldn't I be pleased to have gained freedom from his manipulation? Perhaps, though I can't seem to see it like that.

I sit in my room and consider for an afternoon, phoning Katsuragi once the sun dips beneath the horizon. We don't talk about what I've been thinking, but that's alright. Meaningless conversation fills the silence and distracts us from our thoughts, lets us escape that which we want to escape, just for a while.


	4. Cross To Bear

~Cross to Bear~

I sit in the campus cafeteria with Katsuragi, but I don't watch him as I sip at my coffee. Instead my attention is taken by small things, unimportant things, things that I could notice any day whether in the presence of Katsuragi or not.

So many people here. Tables around us are full of people. People walk between tables, carry food, hold their own conversations. As they walk past, we can hear nonsensical particles that tell us nothing. It's noisy. Before I came here I hadn't thought it'd be so noisy and now I'm here I wonder how I'd ever once thought that way. Of course it's noisy. Of course it's going to be noisy. Of course there are going to be thousands of people around us at any one time. Five classes might hold a hundred people and there are more courses and classes at this university than is practical for me to hold knowledge of.

After a place such as Seirei, where there might have been a thousand pupils but all of them knew your name through your involvement with the Student Council, coming to any university is going to be a humbling experience. Only a handful of students here might ever know your name, but there's a comfort in that, also. A safety blanket provided by anonymity. When you can walk from one department to the other without being chased by fangirls, when you can go the night without hearing another ugly rumour. When you can go another night without having to know that the truth is far worse than the purported rumour.

This place is noisy, but in a way, it feels quiet. The noise isn't something related to me. It's something I can ignore, shut out, that I don't have to worry about. It's not my business. For what feels like the first time in my life, it's truly not my business.

I look back towards Katsuragi. It seems that he's caught up in the same manner of observation that I was previously; he doesn't look at me and I watch his eyes as they follow people out of my line of sight across the room. We're silent for a long time. We haven't seen each other in months, but we're in no rush to speak. Our relationship was never one of speech, of talking. He'll only be here until sunset but his presence is enough to calm me.

I watch him and wonder if he really does. I'm settled at university, now. I've met people, I'm doing things, I have a completely different set of priorities and responsibilities as I had at Seirei. At first, the thought of not having Katsuragi's immediate support was a frightening and upsetting one, but any great change in situation is going to be traumatic, for a moment. The reality as it was faced wasn't as bad as I'd imagined. I could cope, for the most part. When I couldn't, Katsuragi was at the other end of the phone, would reply to emails. Would visit, if I asked him to. We weren't cast so adrift after all.

Perhaps I don't need you as much as I thought I would, Katsuragi.

I watch him as he turns his eyes back to the table, look away when he looks at me. Perhaps I should never have called you. I was feeling bad then, I'm feeling better now. You remind me of things best forgotten and you look incongruous to the setting, you don't look like how I remember you. You look exactly as I remember you but you seem different, somehow. There's a part of you that has a life in another part of the country, that has a life I don't know about, that does things I'm not aware of, that knows people I don't know. Tiny, insignificant things will happen to you that won't even occur to my mind, larger things might happen that I'll only discover second-hand. You might be different in the changed setting. You might be loud or confident, you might laugh in a way I've never seen. You sit still, but there's a movement about you. The sense that things _happen_ to you. It's only been a few months but something about you has changed, and I don't know what it is. I don't know if you'd know if I asked you, either.

Maybe we're all like that, though. Maybe there's something different about me, too. Maybe, if Takumu were here instead, there'd be something different about him, too.

We talked a lot of this, in the past. Takumu and I discussing our endless future, the university we'd attend, how we'd live, what it'd be like... then, as things drifted apart, his plans to go to America, mine to university here, how we'd manage long-distance and how we'd stay together. How we didn't stay together long enough to see each other graduate. Did that make things easier? Maybe. What would it have been like if you were here, Takumu? Might the change have been easier, harder, different? I wonder. I wonder what you're doing now. Who you're with. How you are. Whether you think of me. _Do_ you think of me? I think of you far too frequently. Walk the halls of this university on my own, admire the architecture and stroll beneath the trees. I see something I might have pointed out to you in the past and feel a moment of jarring reality for remembering that you're not here. You were never here. This is a place that has never contained you and I have nobody to make that comment to. Do you ever feel that? The places we could have gone together, the people we could have met, the things we could have done. Already things have happened that haven't involved you, so what does that mean? I can only feel this absence where you once were. The desire to have you here, to experience these things with me. University life is an experience but it's not one I'd wanted without you, Takumu. It was always expected that I'd go to university and so I was used to the idea from an early age, but... everything became about you and I wanted this to be about you also. I haven't told anybody I met here of you, such a thing seems pointless. How many people here have failed relationships? How many people here don't? I'm barely unique in my experience. The events of Seirei are so small and unimportant compared to now.

"... You're thinking about him."

I'm disturbed by Katsuragi's statement. I look up and he's staring at me with a blank expression and piercing eyes. He doesn't even question his judgement, nor should he. You learnt me so well back then, Katsuragi. Of course you're right, you could always tell. Maybe that part of you hasn't changed. I'm not sure I ever knew what you were thinking but me, I'm rather transparent. I smile without feeling it, "... You know me too well, Katsuragi."

Something faint changes about your expression. You look away.

"... You shouldn't."

"You've told me that enough times. It's not that easy."

You could tell me that you understand, but I'm not sure that you do. Instead you look towards me once and then close your eyes.

"... Have you been writing him emails recently?"

"... Not _recently_, no..."

"How 'recently' is that...?"

"Not since the last time I told you."

Katsuragi nods silently. He understands that. However, that time wasn't so _very_ long ago, though I'd rather not admit this. He knows it as well as I do and there's no point in making a point of semantics. I remember the warmth of Takumu's face as I held it between my hands for no particular reason and feel a warm, brief pain set through me. The faint lines of his neck, the shade of his lips, the warmth of his breath. All things consigned only to memory, because they'll never exist again. Not like before, if ever.

Those I know here don't note my silence so. They know me as a quiet person and I have no reason to dispute them of this. Perhaps they wonder what it is that I'm thinking of during those times, but if they do then they've never asked. If they were to ask I wouldn't tell them, though I'd feed them some lie in the absence of truth. They'd have no reason to doubt me.

"... Wada."

"Yes?"

"... It still hurts, doesn't it? What happened between you and him."

Of course it does and you know it, Katsuragi. Such a thing, I wonder if I'll ever forget it.

"It's not been six months since we left school. Even if it's been six busy months, I think it'd take longer to--"

"What would he want, Wada?"

"-- Ah?"

"That Kirihara Takumu. What would he really want? Would he actually want you to still be agonising over this, practically torturing yourself with every thought backward?"

He always said things like that so easily. Those challenging statements and difficult questions in such a quiet tone of voice. I turned that line of questioning over in my mind often, even after Keigo left and the days had passed without him. Rather than be consumed by thoughts of Takumu's ghost, more did I consider those questions.

_What do you want, Takumu?_

I hurt. I hurt, Takumu. I hurt because of how you treated me, because of how you didn't treat me, because of how you changed and how you wouldn't change. The small things you wouldn't compromise over, the larger things we both ignored. The desperation of wanting to keep you near, the emptiness of life without you. I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop thinking about what happened, the knowledge that I no longer know you nor what's happening in your life is enough to make me feel nauseous. Knowing wouldn't help me but I don't care, I still want to know. Have to know. Can't fathom a life that doesn't involve you in it. Even if it's only the memory of you in my mind, I'll involve you in my life because you wouldn't put the effort in to yourself. I can't have you and so I'll have the memory of you, and if it hurts, that's only the sacrifice I have to make to keep you here with me.

Is this reality what you want of me? A reality where sometimes I wake up and feel I can barely function without you? A reality where I've written a hundred emails I'll never send because I don't know how to talk to you anymore?

I knew a Kirihara Takumu who could be quite malicious at times. Sometimes I wonder that I wouldn't be surprised if that _was_ what he wanted of me and yet I find that hard to believe, too. Perhaps Katsuragi is right, somehow. Maybe Takumu would really wish that I'd treat university as the clean slate it could be, that it _is_ for many people. Meet new people. Find new thoughts to replace the old ones. Consign you to memory and live for the moment, for the sake of the unwritten future. Maybe you hope for my happiness, maybe you pity me and only hope I'll be able to get over these consuming thoughts of you and start to really _live_ my life. Perhaps all you want from me is to live and love and be happy.

If that's your point of view, then I can't see it. I can't understand it. I'm the childish one, Takumu - I won't see this from your point of view if that's what your point of view is. Don't you feel any more of this than just that? If you can so easily wish a new life on me... what are you living right now? Are you living a 'new life'? I could never understand your point of view, I can't see how I'm supposed to suddenly gain enlightenment _now_. Even if you think it'll make me happy, even if you thought it in my best interest, I still don't want to get used to a life without you. I just don't desire such a thing.

Maybe Katsuragi is wrong and you're just relishing the prospect of a life without me. You... didn't like certain aspects of me towards the end, did you? I annoyed you, irritated you, made you angry. You're probably happy to be without those things and glad to be rid of me. There's a freedom that comes from not being chained to me, isn't there?

I never asked for it. I didn't want this, I only wanted _you_. And maybe you would wish me to be happy, but I can't bring myself to will the same of you. I just don't want you to be happy without me. Anything else is more painful than I can bear.

I won't believe anything until I hear you say it. Sincerely. And I won't believe that you want what's best for me because what's best for me is you, only you. You're only escaping that because it's easier for you to deal with.

And I won't forget this, either.

I won't forget it because if I don't remember what happened between us, then nobody else will. You certainly won't. I have to remember and I have to memorise this pain because if even no memory of it exists, then what was the point of it happening in the first place...?

~_end_~


	5. As Time Passes

~4~

As Time Passes

I look at him as he sleeps on my sofa and think to myself, that he was just... too _nice_ for the Student Council, I suppose.

We're older now. Many things have happened but some things stay the same; our schooldays are long gone, even the years of university fade into the distance to be replaced by that of recent memory. I lived out of the country for a while. I was successful enough to be able to come back, to have the power to dictate my terms from my home country, from my home. Nice home that it is I bought, too. Takumu is still stunning his expectant audience and I look at his picture on the billboards in the city, I stand on the bridges and I watch them as they rotate and I wonder, just a little. It's been so long since I saw him (other like this), even if it's only in an automatic way it seems that I've come so far at least academically and financially and him? He's still doing the same thing. The same thing that he was good at since even before I first met him, but still the _same thing_. I wonder if he's happy like that, and not in a way that expresses concern over his wellbeing. That was your weakness, wasn't it? You liked to be watched, Takumu. You let me take advantage of that and you're still letting the public take advantage of you. You're perhaps the country's top model, but beautiful people will always be born and looks fade, eventually. You can do what you like, but you can't stop the onset of time. I made my success through my own work, you're still relying on something that was given to you and that will eventually be taken away. How can you stand that? I suppose you've gathered enough money to be comfortable well into your old age, the money that models and actors get is quite frankly stupid, but I suppose they have to have some compensation for their actions.

Admired for your looks, desired on the most basic level, you'll perform for as long as there's an audience. And if that audience were to turn its back on you? If there were nobody to watch you, Takumu... what would you do then? Maybe in that circumstance you would return to me, lonely and needing and content so long as my eyes remained in your direction. And as I stand in the city I laugh, because even now my eyes still look at you though you perhaps don't even know it, I would look at you and still idly consider such circumstance. I have little respect for your profession (about as much as I ever did) and I can only feel sorry for the manner in which you pursue it, and yet still I imagine you returning to me. It's an empty thing now, I know I don't know you anymore and you don't know me and so much has changed that we're practically strangers, but by now I don't think I'll ever forget you. I'm alive still, I'm moving forward, I'm being productive and I've been successful. What goes on in my mind is my own private territory. As my body moves my mind is still stuck and I've got used to that shadow that follows me, albeit at a leisurely distance.

Katsuragi was successful enough to live comfortably, so I understand. He wrote books. I read his books, I was quite impressed, but he was always quite impressive when it came to the written word. Aihara moved to France to open a restaurant chain which gained enough for there to be branches even in my city. He took Kondou with him. Aihara still emails me and I don't think he has any reason to lie about his happiness.

Moritaka follows Takumu around much as he ever did, though a model and a photographer makes a good combination. Kudou is one of the country's top martial artists, though the house of Kudou will always be at competition with that of the Haninozuka (though I don't think they'd have it any other way). I only really hear from Katsuragi, these days. The five of us spread too far and maybe I ruled too much through fear rather than loyalty after all. Ootori sometimes mocks me for this when we meet up for sports, but he sees such things as the pursuits of children and he doesn't know what really happened. He can have his amusement, I never liked him much anyway.

I talked to Katsuragi far more than I actually saw him, though when I was in France and Britain and that brief stint in America, it was easier that way. Even so, once I returned to Japan, we saw nothing of each other. Then I told him my address and I suppose that was the catalyst, though it was still a good few months before he made an appearance. Turning up on my doorstep, calling me '_Wada-senpai_' like we'd only just met, like _when_ we'd only just met. And he seemed older, quite surprising me. Those years since university had changed him, enough to be surprising but little enough to be so also. He'd filled out enough to be imposing while still retaining that gentle, somewhat aloof kind of air. I invited him in and wondered how I'd changed, to him.

We talked of that which we hadn't since our last correspondence, how I'd settled back in Japan and the offices I held here and abroad, the dry work-related issues and the delicate personal ones. Katsuragi spoke briefly of Jinguuji, who was a vet now, apparently. I hadn't seen Jinguuji since we were in school and so the thought of him grown up to such a decently respectable - and compassionate - profession rather surprised me. Still, Katsuragi had been his best friend and I'd known him so vaguely, Katsuragi told me that he'd always been aiming towards some such job as that and if that was the case, I had no reason not to believe it. I wasn't a great listener of pop music, but it seemed that even now, Nishimura was _still_ popular. I didn't know particularly why Katsuragi told me this, other than that Nishimura and Jinguuji had been close and Katsuragi in turn had been close to Jinguuji... we'd somehow grown used to idle gossip, idol gossip falling somewhere between that. I told him that Takumu was still popular, but he knew that.

"_Is there anyone for you?_"

He looked at me with subtle surprise when I asked him this. For me, it wasn't a manner I'd chosen to pursue. My work had been - and was still - important, and the businesswomen I'd encountered were either as motivated towards the goal as I was (whatever that goal happened to be) or the kind that would look for such things only to further their own personal gains. The former held no interest in me and the latter, I held no interest for in turn. This wasn't to say I didn't attract my share of attention, it just didn't feel like the kind of attention I wanted to attract. If nothing else, my heart still held those scars Takumu lovingly inflicted upon me, and under the weight of that knowledge I didn't feel that they'd be interested. Part of me was still frightened and that fear of intimate touch caused its own moments. Having to reject so many, I felt almost as if I were truly back at Seirei, but the thought of entertaining any of them still felt about as realistic as it had back then. Back then, it had been our creed to follow. Now, I simply had different interests. I didn't feel the need. Such things seemed silly and unimportant at best and harshly self-motivated at worst. I simply didn't wish for it.

To me this seemed simple enough, but for Katsuragi I wondered. For the umpteenth time, I found myself considering how, despite having known him so closely over the years, in other ways I didn't know him at all. _Was_ there anybody for him? It was alright if there was, he was an attractive man and if that was what he wanted, then I didn't blame him in the slightest. Instead though, he simply turned to look at me with those open eyes I didn't know how to read and told me one word.

"... _No._"

Then he looked down and back up at me.

"... _Yes._"

The way he looked at me was enough to give the solid answer to the vague question. Maybe he didn't have anybody at the moment but there _was_ somebody he wanted and that person was me, just as it ever had been. Being the type not to pursue such matters, he didn't expand further on his statements, but he gave me enough to think about. I hadn't yet furnished the guest bedrooms but he was happy enough to sleep on the sofa and refused when I asked if he wanted to use my bed, which seemed more of an inconvenience for him than it did to me, strangely. I didn't have the strength to argue with him and so I let him be.

I couldn't sleep, that night. Considering what little he'd said, considering _him_. Having been through my side during school and offering his support through university, my need for him had dwindled as I became self-sufficient but still he maintained a presence in my life. I felt too busy for such things but in _that_ moment, things were quiet, weren't they? I hadn't drawn the curtains and the moon was large outside, the house was silent though I knew him to be just along the corridor. I went back to him occasionally, watching him sleep. It felt like a natural conclusion; Katsuragi, of _course_. That person who had said, even back at school, that he'd do his best to look after me. Did I need looking after anymore? I feared I'd become too solitary, that my mind was too full of myself to dare risk let another enter, but if there were to be anybody else then wouldn't he be the natural selection?

I thought further on the prospect of such a thing seeming built on something like 'natural selection'. Love, romance, passion... such things weren't built on such resignation, were they? However, I also knew the problems that single-minded passion could bring, too. Katsuragi wanted me, perhaps. He wasn't the kind to express it, but perhaps he did. I thought that he did, it seemed that he did. I wondered if I wanted him too. If I was to say that I didn't particularly want him, it was only really because I didn't _want_ anybody; there had been Takumu, and if the point was argued I'd say quite honestly that I didn't even really want _him_, not anymore. I missed what he was to me, so keenly, but that memory had taken on some presence in itself, a kind that Takumu himself would to this day likely never be able to fulfil. I'd allowed myself to be overwhelmed and I supposed that somewhere inside me, something subconscious had been tripped in order to make sure I would never be so overwhelmed again. After Takumu, others just seemed... uninteresting. Still, was that the primary function of a lover, to be _interesting_? Did I not find Katsuragi 'interesting'? Even if not, he was arguably the perfect kind of person to consider for such a position, if such a thing was a position to be considered. In his dealings with me, he'd always been caring and supportive, compassionate and gentle. He'd never asked for anything from me, seeming content so long as I acknowledged and appreciated his presence, so long as I had some vague use for him he remained useful. After Takumu I didn't feel I could feel for anybody, but Katsuragi did his best. Maybe I didn't feel for him like he might have wanted, but I saw his effort and felt for him in that way. Part of me felt sorry for him, being so dedicated to someone so flawed. Was that alright? Back then, knowing that I could only love Takumu, you still loved me. Wasn't that unfair, somehow?

More than anything, I seemed to tolerate Katsuragi's presence. I didn't particularly encourage it but I didn't dismiss it, either. If he wished to find something within me then he could look all he liked, for I'd locked all of that away the moment Takumu told me we'd broken up. Such a silly thing as it seemed now, but could it really be so silly if it had left such an impact? It felt stupid that even now I still felt something for thinking of those events, thinking again that they were stupid but if something hurt so badly then perhaps it wasn't, though wasn't it for hurting so badly? I didn't know, only that I couldn't question my feelings. I tolerated Katsuragi's presence because he didn't go away, because he was always there. I fully expected those who were there to vanish eventually, like how Takumu had. However, years later, Katsuragi was still sleeping on my sofa. Didn't that mean that he was still here? How long was this trial by fire supposed to last, anyway? If he was still here now then maybe it was possible that he wouldn't leave, not now, not after all that had happened. Was his the path easiest taken? I knew in my mind that if I were to accept him so, I believed he'd be good for me. If he were still as gentle and kind as he'd always been and for me, I didn't think that would change. After Takumu nothing had impressed me and after Takumu I hadn't let anything impress me. Maybe what I needed was not to be impressed, after all.

If nothing else, Katsuragi knew of it all. He knew what had happened back then, he knew how we'd behaved, he'd known my sins and seemed to accept them and forgive them as being part of me. Who else could I ask of for such things? Even Aihara couldn't forgive me for many of the things that had happened. Anybody newly met... either they wouldn't be told or they would and they'd be unable to accept, for who could accept such perversion? We were terrible back then and Katsuragi knew this and didn't care. He knew what had happened and still he turned up on my doorstep, still he accepted - and sought after - my company and the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want to let him leave. I couldn't let him go. If I was the person for him then I had to be that person, because surely there'd be nobody else. Was it alright to think like that? I grew sick of wondering that. Thinking of such things as being 'alright' or not, by what rules were these judged? We were independent now and if nothing else, such things were our decision and ours alone. Wondering if it was alright or not, only we could decide this; was this constant questioning my own confusion? The more I thought, the more I grew angry with myself. It hadn't been Takumu and if it wasn't Katsuragi, it wouldn't be anybody else. If he were to find someone else, wouldn't I only regret this?

I went back to where he slept on the sofa, watched him for an hour or longer. I didn't know how to tell him what I thought. I put my hand to his chest and withdrew it quickly, that hesitation turning to familiar panic in my mind.

_i can't do this i cant do this i cant do this I cannot do this I can't do this this sin't something I can do_

_I can't do this on my own_

And in my mind I saw Takumu, because I hadn't had to, not when he was there.

And here was Katsuragi.

So I wouldn't be on my own, would I...?

I still couldn't do it, though. I went back to bed and I slept, instead.

Not long after that, Katsuragi tried to kiss me. I should have let him, but again I panicked and pushed him away. He seemed surprised, but I was quick to apologise; I couldn't, not yet. If we were going to, then we'd have to start again, he'd have to start from the beginning. I didn't tell him of how Takumu had been gentle with me, had spent months slowly just holding my hand so I could be used to him and to Katsuragi this must have seemed stranger for our shared past and what he knew, but it had been a long time since then and perhaps instead of moving forward I'd reverted back to what I was before Takumu, at least in that respect. Even now, as a grown man, I felt frightened. I laughed at this and said it was stupid, isn't it stupid, Katsuragi?

He simply looked me in the eye and told me that it wasn't. This was just how I was, and for that, it could never be stupid. And he said that so seriously that my first thought was to believe him, my second being anger at the first for jumping to that conclusion so quickly. Yet how could I not? If I couldn't trust Katsuragi then I really _couldn't_ trust anybody and more than anything else, I believed that. I honestly believed it.


	6. Memory 1: Take My Hand

~5~

Memory: 1

Take my hand

"_Here._"

School was over and we were alone. Takumu and I in the main meeting room of the Student Council building. The others had gone home and usually I would be left alone to sort out the last of the meeting minutes and file them away, but Takumu had chosen to stay with me. He'd stayed with me a lot these days and I suppose after confessing to him and having had him accept that I couldn't expect anything more and for that I was so grateful, but when it was quiet and when we were alone there was some kind of atmosphere I couldn't describe. A kind of anticipation. When I'd look at him and he'd smile and I'd feel nervous for it. Was this what love was? I couldn't stop looking at him and I never tired of his smile but sometimes just to think of him I'd tremble and it frightened me. I think he realised that I was frightened.

He'd extended his hand towards me, looking at me expectantly. I looked up from the notes I'd piled together with some confusion, "... _Takumu?_"

"_Hold my hand._"

I regarded this matter with some displeasure. He knew how I reacted to even a surprise pat on the shoulder, what was I supposed to do?

"_... Why are you asking something like that..._"

"_Well, we are dating now, aren't we? And isn't it okay for people who are going out to hold each other's hand? So I want to hold your hand sometimes. Is that okay?_"

I blushed at that. I still couldn't get used to these terms, these words, this _status_. 'Going out', 'dating'... those were the sorts of things that these silly girls we'd termed royalty liked to indulge in, surely? Yes, I'd told Takumu of my feelings towards him and yes he'd accepted those and told me he was attracted in turn, but this-- that-- I--...

I picked up my hand as if to attempt, but didn't.

"_Yoshikuni..._"

"_... Sorry. I--... it's difficult._"

I thought he'd stop there (or at least grow tired of my obstinance) but he didn't, then moving to sit next to me at the main table. He put his hand out next to mine, leaning down to stare up at me.

"_I know. Maybe if I held yours?_"

"... _Takumu, things like that--..._"

"_Things like that are the sort of things that people in love do. Don't you want to do them? You said that you loved me... and I love you, so... I just want you to be comfortable with me, Yoshikuni._"

I looked at him. He seemed serious. He continued.

"_I know you jump when you're surprised, but I'm giving you a warning now-- no, not a 'warning', that sounds like it's a bad thing... but I'm letting you know, okay? I want to hold your hand. I don't want to scare you, I'm just--_" He moved his hand to above mine, "_-- I'm just going to put my hand on yours. Okay?_"

I think he could see the nerves in how my eyes darted between his face and his hand but I didn't withdraw my hand, not just yet. He nodded as if to ask if this was alright and I didn't tell him that it wasn't, because more than being nervous, I _wanted_ it to be alright. He was right, he was always right. Holding hands, embracing, kissing, these were the things that people like _that_ did, and we were now like _that_ so didn't it make sense that we would? Even if just the thought frightened me. Even if I wasn't sure how I was supposed to do any of these things. Even with Takumu there - or maybe _because_ Takumu was there - I couldn't be sure of this, of any of it. And yet he asked so calmly, he _wanted_ to do these things. I wanted to do these things, I just... couldn't. Why? We both wanted to, so why? Why not?

My body gave an involuntary jolt as I felt a finger press against my knuckle, two others rest against my skin. A slight warmth. A quickening of breath. I looked at him and he still had that calm, even stare. I felt the movement of his fingers, felt his skin slide over my own, felt warmth spread as his hand cupped over mine. And I was shaking and I didn't know what to do but I didn't pull away and I fought the impulse that told me to do so. I didn't know what to do. What could I do? What was there to do? I couldn't stop looking at him. This warmth against my hand, this was _his_ warmth. I think something inside him registered this as my warmth in return, because the look in his eyes changed, just slightly. I didn't know how they changed or why they changed but only that his face was close to mine and he looked like he wanted something and I didn't know what I could give him. I turned my head away, still looking at him.

"... _You're... warm..._"

His voice was a whisper and his tone was as frightening as his touch. I didn't understand it. I didn't know what he wanted. I knew what he wanted. I didn't know how to give it. I didn't know how to handle this. My breath caught in my throat but I managed to speak, "... _You... you too..._"

A small, gentle smile. "_See? It's not so bad, is it? Just holding hands like this, isn't that alright?_"

The shock impulse that usually caused me to draw back moved slightly differently, this time. I turned my hand under his, our palms pressed together and my fingers clinging to the edge of his hand. Tight enough so that even I could see them shaking. But we were holding hands. I was holding his hand. He was holding mine.

Like this, we made a small step of progress.


	7. Memory 2: The First Kiss

~6~

Memory: 2

The First Kiss

A finger brushing over my lips.

"_... It's natural, isn't it...?_"

I couldn't say anything. Was it? I suppose it was. Maybe. Probably. Yes. No. What was the question, again?

"... _Even you must have been kissed on the cheek before, surely? Doesn't your family do that?_"

They do, but that's completely different.

"... _I want to kiss you, Yoshikuni._"

I couldn't look at him. Using words like 'want' like that, you're being too forceful.

"... _Can I?_"

No. Don't. Please. I want you to, but don't. We can't...! Not like this, not here, though everybody has gone home and we're not going to be disturbed and arguably this is the most private part of school, that's not the point. I want you to, but you can't. Do I want you to? I don't know. I can't even imagine it. Your warmth distracts me enough, Takumu. When you hold my hand, when your fingers are between mine, when I don't want to let you go. When we embrace and that warmth overwhelms me, your arms around me and your body against mine and those thoughts are practically too much to bear. I can bear them with this distance. If you kiss me, there won't be that distance. If you kiss me then you'll have-- I'll have--... we--... if you do that, then... then there's barely any distance left at all, and, and maybe we shouldn't be distant but I don't know how I'm supposed to be close to you.

"_I-- I-- I don't know._"

A small smile of amusement. "_You can't just 'not know' like that, surely? If you want me to or if you don't want me to, either is alright. I don't mind if you don't, Yoshikuni. I just... I just wanted to ask you if I could, that's all. But if you don't want to, that's alright too. I can wait for you._"

Why do you have to wait for me? Why can't I do these things easily? Why can't I be as forward as you are, have the urges to do these things, dare to risk the confrontation to be able to ask in the first place? I look up at you and your gaze is as kind as it always was. You really mean the things you're saying, don't you? Even if it took years, you'd wait for me because you feel that you _can_ wait for me. You _would_ wait for me. Am I worth waiting for? If nothing else, you seem to think that I am. Isn't that enough? That you believe in me?

"... _Yoshikuni?_"

"_I--... I want you to, but--... I--... I can't--... I mean, that is..._"

"_You're scared, aren't you?_"

My silence said about as much as needed to be said.

"_... Is it me?_"

"_Huh?_"

"_Is it me that you're scared of? Am I... frightening? Did I do something to frighten you?_"

"_N-no, it's nothing like that, nothing like that at all--!_"

"_But, you're scared._"

"_I--... I'm not scared... not scared of you, Takumu... just... just of... of 'this'..._"

"_'This'?_"

"_... Being like this... doing... that kind of thing..._"

"_Kissing._"

He said it so firmly, as if to berate me for being ambiguous even about something so clear.

"... _Kissing. I--... I can't even imagine it, it's--... I... I'm sorry, Takumu..._"

"_Shame. You've got lovely lips._"

"_-- Ah?!_"

He was staring at me, quite obviously staring at my lips. Still that gentle smile on his own, which I couldn't help staring at.

"_All soft and delicate. I just thought that I wanted to kiss them, that's all._"

I don't know what made me kiss him. That split-second urge that I couldn't control, I leant in and pressed my lips against his, briefly. I pulled away, shaking. He looked at me with an almost _awed_ expression.

"_... I was right, they are lovely!_"

I couldn't look at him.

"_But a bit more than that..._"

Still couldn't look at him.

"_Can I kiss you, Yoshikuni?_"

I'd just kissed him, so it seemed stupid to refuse now. My mind was racing already from the confusion that _I'd_ made a move like that, so I could only sit back as he then leant forth and kissed me back, but harder than before. His lips against mine, a firm presence. I closed my eyes, too embarrassed to have him so close and I didn't know what to do, where to look, to close my eyes seemed easiest. And he was climbing over his chair to lean against me on mine, I felt him pull away from the kiss and he moved and he sat against me, sat over me, kissed me again. Held me close and I felt his mouth open against mine, felt his _tongue_ and I didn't know what to do I don't know what to do Takumu what are you doing this isn't this is I don't know what is this Takumu stop no don't stop I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't

He pulled away, still so close.

"... _You're still... scared, aren't you..._"

I couldn't say anything.

"_Yoshikuni, look at me._"

I did so, though I felt scared even to do that.

"_... Am I scary?_"

I gulped. He cupped my cheek in one hand.

"_Do I scare you? I--... we can stop, if you like. I'm scaring you, I'm sorry--_"

He made to move away from me, but my hands around him stopped that. I was scared of him continuing but in that moment, I was more frightened of him moving away, of this warmth cooling, this heat I could feel pooling inside me. I looked up at his face, his expression showing genuine remorse and I didn't _want_ to stop, I didn't want him to move, I didn't want him to leave, he had to stay here like this and we had to stay together. He was beautiful and I was as taken by that as I'd always been, and I couldn't understand what I thought of his beauty but I only knew that I wanted it and I had it, didn't I? I had it and yet I was too frightened to possess it. Because if I had this beauty, if he was _mine_ then I didn't know what I'd do. And yet he was mine and I was his and the more I looked at him the more I wanted to _be_ with him, somehow. Somehow more than this. This heat, I wanted more of it. When I looked at him, the overwhelming need just to _keep_ looking at him, to always be able to look at him, to look at him no matter what... and this scared me, this all scared me. The force of need, the need of wanting, the want of _him_.

_That_ was what scared me. Not Takumu himself, not exactly what he was doing, just... before, I'd shied away from the touches that I didn't want. This time, these were touches that I _did_ want and I _wanted_ and I didn't know how I wanted or how _to_ want, just that I did, and I wanted him, wanted Takumu, who wanted me. I didn't know how to want like this, but I did, and he did, and, and, and I couldn't let him go. I couldn't let him go. I couldn't let him go, I _wouldn't_ let him go. I held him tightly and I was shaking, I felt his arms around me and I was shaking but he didn't mind because he knew me and he knew how I was and he knew that if I really hated this, I'd push him away. Because I was scared, though not because I was hating this, but because I think I was _liking_ this.

Because it was him. Only because it was him. If it were anybody else, then, then, then this couldn't happen. This feeling, this was a private feeling between the two of us and nobody else could touch it, could hurt it, could _feel_ it. We were the first people ever to feel like this and this was the first time I'd ever felt like this and surely it was the same for him also? Just _looking_ at Takumu, if somebody had told me that anybody in the world could love as much as I felt I loved when I looked at him, I would have refused, I would have fought them. This boy was amazing and beautiful and wonderful and mine, he was _mine_, and that was scary but it was wonderful and I never wanted this feeling to end.


	8. Memory 3: Sunlight

~7~

Memory: 3

Sunlight

I stood on the school roof, my hands against the railing. It was hot and the air was still, but a breeze would lend soft presence, occasionally.

The sun was bright in the sky. The sky was blue, endlessly blue.

Below me was the sports track, students running around it and others in groups to the side, a teacher holding a stopwatch and blowing a whistle to time.

Had the sky always been this beautiful? The sun, the roof, the track, the students, these other humans existing on this planet, this wonderful planet where we all exist? This world where I could do anything.

_I could do anything._

This world where Takumu exists, where I exist, where we exist together and our lives just happened to collide, out of all of the probability in the world we, two random factors, came across each other. And I loved. And he loved in return.

I love him. He loves me.

I can't

I can't get over this amount of happiness

I can do anything because I have the love of that person, that wonderful person. He is without doubt the most wonderful person in the world, and he loves me. If I were to be doubtful I might wonder why somebody so wonderful would think so much of me, but I trust his judgement and his knowledge and if he loves me, then he must be sure of it, must know how and why and despite all of that, _still_ love me.

Do those students on the track below feel this? The classrooms beneath me, around me, full of students and teachers and learning. Don't they all feel this, this happiness? Can't they feel it? Oh, but were there a way for me to communicate this feeling to you, my fellow students. All I want is for you all to be as happy as this. Wouldn't it be wonderful if _everybody_ felt this happy? Why is it so that people don't? Surely, to feel like this... for us all to feel like this... isn't that what we all want?

Isn't that what we all want?

Isn't that what I have?

Everything about this day is perfect. Everything about now, about me, about him... everything, everything is perfect and it'll be perfect forever, because it'll never change. How could I ever tire of this feeling? How could I ever grow sick of what this all means? This happiness, this endless happiness... it's so strong, I can barely stand it. I almost don't know what to do, feeling this happy. This completely overflowing happiness.

Takumu

Because of you, I love so much, so deeply. Because, in return, you also love so much and so deeply. Because I have you, I can do this. Because we're together, I can do anything. _We_ can do anything.

Isn't that wonderful? Isn't that exciting?

Oh, Takumu.


	9. Memory 5: This Beautiful Thing

~9~

Memory: 5

This Beautiful Thing

(The Point of No Return)

As the credits rolled on the film, I felt little more than the final satisfaction of the end of an evening. We had a long weekend and most students took advantage of this in their own playful fashion, but we still had work for the Student Council to finalise and homework on top of that, so knowing he could rely on me for help, Takumu had invited me to his house. We spent the afternoon working out business and the early evening doing our homework, it wasn't finished but the weekend wasn't over yet. Takumu said that we should relax since we'd worked so hard and sometimes the reward is as much as the accomplishment, so we agreed. He let me pick a DVD to watch, so I picked one that I hadn't seen that I'd heard was good. It seemed that my judgement was correct and Takumu had seen it before but didn't mind seeing it again, and I think we both enjoyed it.

I concentrated on the film as much as I could, though Takumu's presence was intoxicating. Now that our responsibility for the day had shifted, there was nothing between us and I leant against him and he didn't mind and we were silent but comfortable. As we sat there, I couldn't help but think that this was the first time I'd been so comfortable with the silence of another person. We were relaxed enough that we didn't _need_ to talk, that we could be satisfied with each other's presence and I who often found the world too noisy sincerely appreciated this. He'd move to brush an eyelash from my cheek and I'd look at him and he'd smile and I loved him, I loved him so much.

And the film ended and I sat back up against the sofa, he turned to me and spoke.

"_We should go to bed now._"

A single heartbeat echoed through the lazy satisfaction and set me alert. This was true, it was time for bed, but it was less of what he said and more of how he said it. The way he stared at me and didn't look away. That firm acknowledgement, that certain meaning. He placed his hand over mine and squeezed it, gently. His eyes. I couldn't turn away from his eyes. He stood up from the sofa, still holding my hand. I stared up at him, momentarily unable to move. He still smiled.

"_Aren't you tired?_"

"_So-somewhat..._"

"_Then, doesn't it make sense to go to bed?_"

Yes, yes it does. But that's not what you _mean_, Takumu. Is it?

He didn't let go of my hand as we made our way upstairs. Having spent most of the afternoon in Takumu's bedroom as we worked didn't stave off the nervousness within me as we reached the top landing, as he opened the door, as he guided me inside. The curtains weren't drawn and the moon was full that night and I went to turn the lights on, but he stopped me. He pushed the door closed and then me against it, standing very close to me. So this was what you meant.

"_I brought your things through from the spare bedroom earlier. You've got cute pyjamas._"

What's cute about them? I couldn't look at him, but he nudged my cheek with one finger, "_Hey._"

"_T-Takumu-- what's going to happen here?_" I blurted it out before I could help it. He looked slightly taken aback at this, but that didn't last for long.

"_Only as much as you're comfortable with. That's all._"

It's saying things like that which make me want to do everything, Takumu. Because we can. Because I can. Because of you, I can. Because we can do anything, so long as it's _us_.

I sat on the edge of the bed as he undressed. To start with it was as much as I'd ever seen between him and what I knew of his modelling career, but he was standing in a patch of moonlight and seemed far more beautiful there than the artificial light of the photoshoot could ever hope to paint him in. Then there was more and there was nothing and he was naked and he turned to me with a smile and it wasn't that I hadn't seen _that_ before, just that I hadn't seen it and him in the altogether and why, Takumu? Why are you so beautiful? _How_ can you be so beautiful? I don't understand, I don't understand at all. I sat and stared, simply awestruck. He motioned with one hand to beckon me closer and I snapped back to the surreal reality of the situation, "_Ah--?_"

"_Come here, Kuni._"

As much as Kudou liked to call me 'Wadacchi' in front of everybody else, the nickname that Takumu used only for me was far dearer to me, inside my heart. I did as he asked and he pulled me close before falling to detail against the buttons of my shirt. I watched him as he didn't watch me, as he stepped back to slip my shirt from my shoulders; I reached out against one of his hands to slow him, to stop him, then our eyes met and I let the fabric fall. Stood in that same light as he, I let him undress me. He threw my clothes gently to the side and we had done more than this before, so why did I feel so nervous? Takumu had long since let me grow used to the nerves he stirred within me but to the practical side of my mind, that made no sense. Still, we hadn't been naked for each other before... he stood mere inches away from me and put his arms over my shoulders, his smile lazy but his eyes alert. I felt his hands and savoured their warmth, but I didn't feel the need to pull away. He hadn't even had to ask, now. I trembled, but he knew that. I knew that. We didn't mind it. He kissed me and wasn't there something romantic about that, kissing in the moonlight? Afterward, he smiled at me.

"_It's not the school roof at sunset or anything, but... here is fine, don't you think?_"

"_A-ah..._" What he meant for, I wasn't quite certain.

Another kiss, one I felt comfortable to prolong due to my uncertain wonder of what might come next. Or, that is to say, the near-certainty and the almost insurmountable petrification that brought with it. Such things were of the smaller group of things marked in my mind, that always brought a kneejerk reaction of "_I can't do that!_", a sentiment that might have surprised many of my peers and betters. To them and even to myself, in most matters there was nothing I couldn't achieve if I studied hard enough, worked hard enough, put enough effort in. Something like this was exempt to that. I had some vague knowledge of what love was supposed to be before Takumu, but nothing prepared me for what that was actually _like_. Nothing prepared me for him kissing me, touching me, being with me, _loving_ me. It was all uncharted territory and no amount of study would rectify this; the more of Takumu I learnt only seemed to highlight what more there was I might never truly learn. Not that I didn't vow to do my best; for and because of Takumu, I _would_ do my best. Small steps took us out of the moonlight and over to the edge of the bed and application of pressure toppled me onto the bed; we lay there unmoving for a short time though I couldn't say for what reason. Takumu pulled the sheets over us and kissed me once more, over me this time. In bed. This is how it is, isn't it? I think he felt my hitch of breath.

"... _Are you alright?_"

He always asked, but by now the courtesy felt unneeded. Of course I was. I was with him, so anything was. I smiled up at him, "... _We're doing this... properly, aren't we...?_"

A pause and then a smile, "_The exciting things that adults do, huh?_"

That caused a moment of thought in my mind. "_... Is it alright to do this?_"

I meant it as a genuine question; just because one was over the age of consent didn't automatically make them _ready_. Were we ready for this? Was it... was it _alright_? Against whose judgement I'd never know but my mind still couldn't help but ask the question, just to get the answer I needed to continue. I knew it, but I wouldn't be satisfied until I heard it from Takumu's lips.

"_Why would it not be?_"

I couldn't think of any reason. He looked sincerely concerned, as if to say that if I should have any disagreement, he'd stop immediately. As if I _could_ know a reason why it would really not be alright. I only asked for the same reason reversed and so smiled and shook my head, "... _I don't know._"

"... _You want to do this? Properly?_" He echoed my earlier words, always confirming, always concerned. By now I wasn't sure I needed it so much but as long as he provided I knew that he cared. Did I? Did I really? To give myself so to the person I loved. To think about it, I wondered why we hadn't yet done this before; we had been on the planet for far longer, surely? We had known each other for longer than this, loved each other for longer than this, so why only now? Ah, because Takumu hadn't wished to rush me. But the sooner we learnt was the more time we could spend together, surely? Already I wished to make up for lost time. Those moments of the past where we didn't know each other, they were wasted. I wonder if the two of us were born to meet; my life only seemed to take colour once I knew you, Takumu. All my life I'd done what other people asked of me, expected of me, and that got me far enough, but unsatisfactorily. I would reach a goal and feel little for it, because that was what was expected and if I failed, that would be unheard of. I was expected to succeed and so I had to succeed. I succeeded in goals dictated to me so often I didn't know what it was like to want for myself, not until I met Takumu. He was a goal unpenned by any adult. Would they approve? I doubted it. However, Takumu was the first person I had ever wanted so completely and I _had_ him so completely and this was by no outside influence. Teachers hadn't taught this, my parents hadn't encouraged it. I had no guidance, only he. And we'd done this on our own. Wasn't that element of independence something that adults craved? Perhaps we were more adult than we thought. Maybe we _were_ ready, after all. My mind wouldn't accept any thought that said that the night _wouldn't_ end in the projected fashion; I was in bed with Takumu for a reason. It had been long enough. Not only were we ready, but I was impatient. I was nervous still to think of that, but more than the nerves was the _want_ and that was strongest of all. To say how I'd been before, my strength of will impressed me.

"... _I... I want... you, Takumu._"

Some kind of relief seemed to wash over Takumu's face, as if he too had needed the confirmation I'd required.

"... _You're really sure?_"

"_I've never been more sure of anything. I promise._"

"... _You're so comfortable with me now. I... I'm glad._"

I barely even knew what it meant to be comfortable with someone before you, Takumu. I'm glad, too. That you were the one who let me feel this.

We lay there for some amount of time I don't recall, our kisses brief and touches light as if even he was unsure as to how we might continue. He smiled close to me and gently removed my glasses, placing them on the nightstand.

"_... Now you really are naked, aren't you?_"

He told me afterward he'd not really seen me without my glasses, other than the brief moments I took to clean them. Without them I couldn't see much at all outside of my immediate surrounding, which in this case was Takumu alone. The lines of the window shadowed in the moonlight faded to a blur and the rest of the room was an uncomplicated darkness, the world hazy outside of Takumu; this pleased me, my physical sight now perfectly mirroring my inner feeling towards him. I could only see him, but that was all I needed to see and so like that, I was content.

I would have been content with just that, I swear. Yet of course, in that time, on that night, back then, before anything else we were still just teenagers with burgeoning sexual drives, no matter how latent mine happened to be. Somewhere between my preconception and Takumu's determination we moved to something further and that night we spent together turned the atmosphere and sent us reeling as, in our hesitant way, we made love. It really was like that, back then. How things would change.

In those moments I could barely remember anything, barely _think_ of anything - my vision was always of Takumu but now there was him, and there was always only him but now it was _only_ him and it could only _ever_ be him, those arms around me and those fingers touching and the way he kissed and when he'd bite my neck and make me shudder, harder than I might have asked but more than enough to excite... in another situation I might have worried, the marks he left against me as his teeth slid against my skin, when I could only just hear his movement over the sound of my raging heartbeat; surely there the school uniform wouldn't cover, might not somebody see, might they not wonder, might they not ask?

No, but in that situation I didn't care. These marks on my skin, they were ones that he'd left, which made it alright. They meant that I belonged to him, that I was his and he was mine and that was all. We'd worry about the consequences when they became an issue. That'd never been my line of thought before but he changed it, oh, he changed so much.

I'd always been nervous and as the mood changed from the general to the particular to the certain, I became unsure once more. What of, I couldn't say - if there was only one thing I believed in in this world, it was Takumu, so... so what was it that worried me? The anticipation, perhaps. Knowing that this was further than we'd ever been before. Knowing how much this meant to me and wondering what it meant to him, hoping that it was the same, feeling that I knew that to him, it would be. He'd told me he'd wanted to do this with me, his first time also... so there had to be a reason that it was _me_, surely? Even then, I wondered if he was making the right decision, if he really wanted _me_ (yet I would have been devastated had his answer been any different). I looked up at him with uncertainty. His smile gave me what courage I needed and he kissed me as he entered me and that's where memory turns to haze in my mind.

As he took me, I realised that _this_ was where intimacy led. Between the two of us, _this_. This ugly, disgusting ritual. This primitive meeting of flesh, this undignified show of affection, this graceless movement, this

this

this beautiful thing

this beautiful

wonderful

thing

this

_thing_

I lay there afterward with my eyes closed, barely daring even to breathe in case it disturbed the equilibrium. Our shapes pressed against each other, against the bed, I felt perfectly empty and practically weightless, the heavy warmth of Takumu against me a weight I wasn't sure I had the strength to support. I felt his heartbeat against my body and the deep breaths he still took, my breath still tinged with hint of my wavering voice, the voice that had called his name without caring and let sound fall without hearing. I'd heard his, though. Every sound he made. Every breath, every sigh, every gasp, every cry. I took each sound and recorded it to the memory of my heart, treasured each as the precious thing it was. He'd looked at me throughout, never turning, never looking away. I'd turned away but could never break the gaze, the way he watched me while I was at my most vulnerable. That was it, wasn't it? The openness, the vulnerability, laying everything bare in the hopes that he'd accept. And he had, and that'd led to this. And we'd led to that. And that was everything.

He moved against me, groaning softly. He nudged my shoulder with a still-shaking hand.

"... _Kuni...?_"

As I lay there, I wished to lie there forever. In that silence, in that moment, in that realisation. And he was trying to wake me from the dream, but he _was_ the dream, and so I smiled. I smiled and opened my eyes and he saw my smile and returned it, and he held my hand and we lay together after that and we were happy.

And yet even that, at that time, I remember. The sharper feelings. The desperation at the edge of climax, those silly thoughts that mean everything one moment and are forgotten the next.

Takumu calmed me physically, but mentally, my thoughts scared me more than ever before. The new emotion of _wanting_ had been interesting enough, seeing Takumu and wanting him and coping with that, but those moments seemed to heighten their strength so suddenly. I knew I wanted him, I knew I had him, but that almost _wasn't enough_. On the edge, there was always the desire for something _more_, something _further_; I loved him and he loved me and we were together. We loved each other and belonged to each other, what more could you ask? Oh, I could ask for much, much more. It had to be more. It had to go further.

If Takumu was to be mine then he had to be mine _completely._

My feelings were his and he held me in thrall. I would have done anything if he'd asked.

Was this sentiment returned?

He was everything. He was _my_ everything. He was _my_ everything and he could belong to nobody else, not even in the slightest. The beautiful things that were mine, they couldn't be shared in case they lost their shine, their brilliance. These things I treasured of him, the small things, who else appreciated them? Who else noticed them? Who else _deserved_ to notice them? I was the one that he loved and so I was the chosen, I was the deserved. These things were mine, and mine alone. When we were alone together - exactly that. We were _alone_. We were doing this on our own, because nobody could do it for us. Because nobody else could. Because we had to. Because I had to. Because I had to keep him and he had to be mine and we had to be exactly as we were and this could never fade and it could never die because _this_ was us and _this _was how we were. I didn't want to move from his bed, if that were at all possible; if we could stay secluded and alone then we'd be together and we'd need nobody else. How _could_ we need anybody else? He was my lover and my best friend, my idol and my boyfriend. What on earth could there be in life that anybody else could bring to it? If I only saw him to the end of my life, I would have been content. That seemed desirable, even. I didn't want anybody else. Other people with their opinions and distractions and judgements and questions, they tired me. But we understood each other, and that was all we needed.

In those moments I felt so moved that nothing was enough and nothing was too much to ask.

I would die to protect this feeling

I would kill to protect this feeling

To protect us.

To protect him.

I was unnecessary, unimportant. Whatever my life was worth, it was barely a fraction of what _his_ was. Such shining light, such dazzling warmth, what could I be but ever in his shadow? And yet in his shadow was a comfort and a satisfaction, that I couldn't be seen in that darkness. I was enveloped by him, by everything that he was; how could I not be? Everything about him was amazing, perfect, wonderful. And mine. He was mine. I had never wanted before him and I'd never _had_ until he said yes but now I wanted and I owned and the latter didn't cross out the former, the more I had of him the more I wanted. His time, his company, his smile, his love. I could never tire of it and I would always hunger and this seemed desperate and awful and powerful and addicting all at once. I was addicted, addicted to him. I spent my days thinking how more to own him, to possess him, to somehow breathe him further into the self that I was. If we merged so far as to become one being, it still would not have been enough. I'd press myself to him, damning even the skin that kept us apart. We had to be closer. We had to be clos_est_. Did even he understand this depth of feeling? He had to. He had to. He was brilliant and shining and knew everything, felt everything, felt _the same as me_. So he had to feel this. Surely? How could he smile so casually with this feeling inside? School became difficult, our secret incompatible with those around us. I would have abandoned them all to be free with him.

Isn't that right, Takumu?

Wasn't that how we were?

Wasn't that _what_ we were?

My feelings frightened me, but all the time before you had held my hand and told me it was alright. It was alright to love, it was alright to need, it was alright to want, it was alright to feel scared and frightened and it was alright to be aroused, it was alright to wish for another person, it was alright, it was all alright because I asked and you said it was. I need you to confirm this, Takumu. Need you to confirm me, what I am, what you're turning me into. I'm worried, Takumu. This is alright, isn't it? This is... this is normal. This is what people in love do. This is what people in love feel. Isn't it? When I would curse those you spent time with and hate those you smiled for, when I wished to take you away from it all and have you for my own... that's... that... that's normal, isn't it? What I'm feeling, isn't it normal? Am I normal? Takumu?

... Takumu?

Takumu--!

This has to be alright because if it's not then I don't know where it's going anymore.

It has to be alright because I don't know how else to feel.

This has to be alright.

I can't be the only one to feel like this.

You feel this too, don't you?

Takumu?


	10. Memory 6: Tame Birds Need Cages

~10~

Memory: 6

Tame Birds Need Cages

Billboards.

Adverts.

Posters.

Television.

Cinema.

Magazines.

So many magazines. So many pages. So many spreads. So many articles.

Photos.

_So many photos_.

Another photoshoot.

You bring me the resulting photos and you smile and tell me you think it went well today. You tell me how much you made and what you're saving up for now.

You're whoring yourself, Takumu.

You're giving them your body and they're giving you money for it. What else is that?!

They position the lights and scenery and make you pose, they control you down to the breadth of an eyelash. They ask for emotion. You give it to them. What fragrance can be expressed by your delicate pout?

When you lie there, open-shirted.

Naked.

They can all _see_ you, Takumu--! Thousands of people across the country are going to buy that magazine and see you naked.

You were the first person to see me naked and that was special, Takumu. Don't you have that measure of humility, or do you only do what they ask of you whenever they ask it?

I have you, but you create the illusion of hope. You present an ideal, a manufactured image that those who see wish to be or possess. How many people across the country - across the _world_ - see you and wish you were theirs? Fame brings such things. How many people dream of you at nights, think of you in their intimate moments, say your name on climax?

That my love would be so desired...

Yes, but you are mine. You're mine, aren't you? So, it doesn't matter how many people look at you and see you and want you, it's alright because you're mine. The justification is our intention and inside, we know the truth. But nobody else can know it, can they? It would affect us in school, would affect your career if people knew. People have ugly words for our relationship, Takumu. Ugly words and uglier thoughts. It's nobody's business but our own but the media would _make_ it their business, their starlet idol having a gay experience or however they'd wish to describe it.

You leave school early to be at their beck and call. You take a week's leave for an American photoshoot. You say you'll bring me a souvenir but what's _happening_ out there, Takumu? If you meet Cindy again, what'll you tell her? Every moment that you're gone, I think of you and miss you and miss you so keenly I think I might die. Is that the same for you? In the sunny world of beautiful people, do such emotions even exist? Do you think of me as I think of you or do you put me aside, a different mindset for your differing surroundings? Do you talk of me, mention me? Am I still an important force in your life, out there?

When you return, I hold you so tightly. You laugh and ask if I missed you. I don't speak. Of course I did. A stupid question. How dare you even ask such a thing...!

You tell me you missed me.

Tell me more.

Tell me again.

Make me believe you, Takumu.

I don't

I don't want you to have to do this, Takumu.

I don't want

you to do this anymore

I want you to be mine and mine alone

If everybody else is looking then they're looking at something that is mine and it's fine to look and only to look but they're looking and _wanting_ and I wanted and still want but that's _different_ and how dare they even use the same word for the silly insignificant emotion they might feel

Idols, models, singers, filmstars. They rise and fall out of the public consciousness. Those who love you one day will abandon you the next, Takumu. Why do you seek such shallow admiration? Why do you encourage them?

How can you still smile at them when they're _using_ you?

Don't do this, Takumu!

Can't you be content with only my eyes? If I'm the only one to see you, isn't that alright? I can't pay you as much and won't bring you so much fame, but isn't it enough that it's _me_?

Don't do it anymore.

I don't want you to be a model. Even though you're mine, I can't stand the implication. I want you to be mine alone and you can't be mine alone if everybody else is watching you. These small things and private moments, they're not private when they're the double-spread of the latest fashion magazine. When there are internet forums discussing your every movement, stupid fangirls pushing each other to orgasm over the sight of your hip or whatever their latest fetish happens to be.

I'm not strong, Takumu. I need you to feel justified. I can't believe that you'd choose me over all of the others and when there are so many others I need reassurance.

So reassure me.

Let it go. It's just a job, isn't it? You've got enough money to be satisfied now, surely. Am I, a living breathing thinking human, not more important than this corporate masquerade? There'll always be other pretty young hopefuls to sell their products, it doesn't need to be you. You'll lose that, and what'll you be left with...?

I'd wait for you if you let me. If I could let myself. I don't think I can. I don't think I can, Takumu. What have I asked of you? What have I ever asked of anybody? If I could only ask you for one thing, then... then it would be for that one thing, to be _everything_. You have to be mine entirely because I can't stand it if you're not.

Please.

Can't you see what I'm saying?

Don't you understand?

I'm making sense, aren't I?

Takumu, _please_.

I need you, and that's more important to me than anything else in the world.

Don't you want me to be happy...?


	11. Memory 7: Some Birds Won't Be Caged

~11~

Memory: 7

Some Birds Won't Be Caged

I've changed, have I?

Maybe I am difficult to put up with, sometimes.

Maybe I'm unreasonable.

Didn't you understand, though? Those times I asked things of you, they were only because I wanted _anything_ from you. I wasn't asking you to move mountains, Takumu. If you'd just brought me a flower from the mountain's side, I would have been happy.

I thought you knew me, I thought you knew me more than anybody else. I _trusted_ you more than anyone else. So I thought you were able to read me, predict me, know me. I know you're not psychic but you're not stupid and I thought I was obvious, though maybe I wasn't.

I heard you leave, the door of the Student Council building slamming, too loud.

I didn't have the strength to follow you.

I didn't have the strength for anything. Because you were my strength, weren't you?

You were my everything and so when you went I was left with nothing.

There's nothing.

There's nothing, Takumu.

Without you, I'm nothing.

Therefore: I am nothing.


	12. Memory: Apathy: The Twisted Prince

~12~

Memory: Apathy

The Twisted Prince Of The Worthless Kingdom

I like the perfect symmetry of lines across your body.

Which pain is worse? This is more intense, leaves marks, seems brutal. Yet give it a week and the sting will fade, the welts diminished and the memory gone. If a pain this sharp were truly to strike your heart then you might die, but I don't have access to that so I reach it through words, instead. Do those hurt as badly? Perhaps not so, not at first. But don't dismiss the shard that is a well-placed word, driven into _just_ the right spot. It might not hurt now and it might not hurt in a week, but give me that time in-between and by the third week you'll wish you were dead. And I'll smile, because if you live or die, I don't care. Not particularly.

I can't help you. I can't help anybody anymore but what does that matter, because nobody wants to help _me_. Takumu, you said I'd changed; yes. Yes, I suppose I have. I have now, haven't I? Still, only you know how I was before this. Only you know what you turned me from and turned me into. These others, they're innocent and bewildered, caught and wounded by weapons not wielded in their name.

Takumu. Moritaka. Kudou. Katsuragi. Jinguuji. Nishimura. Aihara, Kondou, Honma. Whoever else needs to be punished, strengthened, weakened, broken.

You all hold a beauty. The open nature of the human body, the absolute submission, the frightened obedience. This pain, you don't understand it, but I can wield it and make you feel _something_. For that, I'm jealous. Even if it's painful, even if you're hurting, _you_ can feel.

You. 'You'. The ever-present 'you'. It meant Takumu but became '_you all_', those of you who'd come to me and those of you I'd forget. So many, and I didn't care. Who are you? What of you? Those of you beneath me, tied and bound and screaming but silenced. I request this and you don't question it because I'm the leader, because even though we're not Ouran we're still powerful and _I'm_ still powerful, don't forget that. I'll make sure you don't. I can schedule you in for Ootori's next visit if you don't believe I can.

I wonder if I ever learnt how to break a person. Those of you who broke, broke too easily. I think there was something you desired there and I think you let yourself go without challenge. Some people wish to rely on others, and I can see the attraction of this, was under the attraction of this. When I tell you what to feel and how and when to breathe, you can accept or deny that. To fight that will be difficult but to give me control is to ensure I lose interest. I want to play with you, I want to be interested, I want to find new things and learn how they work. You can't fix me but oh, I can break you.

Your eyes are beautiful, but moreso when the blindfold covers them.

Your screams are delicious, but moreso when the ballgag blocks them.

Your skin is perfect, but wouldn't it be lovely if it were marked and scarred and bleeding and broken?

All this, just to show what I can do to you, what I can leave you with. Don't you think? My pet project, don't you want to win? Can't I prove myself? I'm bored. I'm bored and nothing interests me. There's nothing I want and nobody telling me what to do. What I do in my own time is my business and for today, I think it will be you. Or you. Or you, perhaps? You've done nothing wrong, but absence makes the heart grow fonder... don't you think? Doesn't your heart ache? Doesn't your body ache? Oh, it will.

Those who broke easily were short-lived entertainment. Those who took longer gave the vague kind of interest one would afford to a distant event or gossip reported, something that sparked an interest but died soon after. But I could go back and feel those stirrings once more, that slight curiosity as I'd observe your appeal. Let me hurt you and see how you react. Push you further and see what you do. Oh, you're resisting? Here, let's go further. Further still. Is this far enough? No, no it's not. I like that of you, Jinguuji. You have a strength these others don't. That determination, that blind faith that if you persevere then I won't win. Oh, but I _will_ win. This little power struggle. I could let you go now, but I won't. I could let you go at any time I pleased, but why would I do that when I can see the look on your face as I tell you of Nishimura? He submits too easily, he seemed to _enjoy_ such things. More than others, even. Doesn't that please you to know it? Isn't that interesting? Here, I'll blindfold him and let you see his reactions for yourself. I've never seen you look so broken. Maybe I don't possess that strength myself but you were different, and there's always going to be an exception to the rule.

We became a well-oiled machine. This, my Student Council... they'd obey my every question and were loyal to a fault. Moreso once those faults established themselves. Katsuragi, you'll do anything for me, won't you? Moritaka, playing with Takumu when you should be attending Kudou, how naughty. Kudou, you're always so annoyingly cheerful. What's behind that smile, beyond it? You've lost Moritaka's heart, so let me play with yours instead. Won't that be fun? I don't care for you, so I don't care if you hurt. I don't even _like_ you that much.

In the silence, as burns cool and the blood dries, I close my eyes and wonder how far we've come, how far we've gone, how lost I've become. If this is where we led ourselves, now mixed up in this maze of hatred and apathy. If this is where you took me, Takumu. How much of this can I blame on you? If you blamed yourself for all of it then it wouldn't be enough, but is that truly the case?

Still. Too far to repent now.


	13. Apathy: Memory: He Who Watched

~13~

Apathy: Memory

He Who Watched As The Sky Burnt And Laughed When The People Screamed

Your smile is cruel and I'm not the only one who changed, Takumu.

You know my weaknesses. You know what hurts me, what scares me, what frightens me.

I was never so cruel to you. What justification do you have? If I scared you, if I ever scared you then that's nothing compared to how you scare me.

You scare me, Takumu.

Don't you remember when you were so happy that I trusted you at last?

I'm not the only guilty one.

You came to me and told me to make you hurt. The challenge in your eyes, to see if I _would_. Oh, I did.

Then afterwards, you came to me again. And once more we had each other but differently. We were rough, angry, brutal. I can't bite as hard as the whip stings but I can try. I know how you want to be watched and the power it gives you when you know people are watching you, that I can turn that to my advantage, but so could you turn mine to yours. Saying I could give it all up, if I really wanted to. That if I'd just submit to you then it'd be as things were, teasing me with the past for foolish hope, knowing what I want and knowing you won't give it. To give it all to you... no, it's too late for that, Takumu. I already gave you everything. This, this is... I don't even understand what this is. I don't understand why I'm still moving, still living, still breathing. I would give you all that if I could but I know now, it would mean nothing. I'd give you my precious things and you'd laugh as you broke them.

I'm not the only one at fault.

I'm not

the only

one

When you call me '_Kuni_' still, but it's not as it once was. When you say that now, you're mocking me. When you're angry, you're cruel without resolve and I don't understand you. I understand my cruelty and I see that as little more than picking on insects, but is that what I am to you now? An insect? You're still everything. As you are now is so different but is not the you you once were still hidden someplace? Can we not go back to that somehow?

The further we went on, the more I knew this false.

The Takumu that laughed with other people, that was none of my business anymore. The Takumu who talked of things I didn't understand and of other people with a gleeful abandon, like I was supposed to be happy now that all of your time was with them and none of them was with me. When you'd stay behind after a Council meeting and we'd be alone together like we always were, but solitary, like we weren't. Don't you remember when our silence would be charged with sweetness, when we loved and when anything seemed possible? From craving your company I grew to loathe it, wanting what was and hating what we were at the same time. I wanted to be with you but I wanted to be with you as you were, as _we_ were, not now. Not like this.

You'd stand with Moritaka and smile at me and turn away like nothing had happened. I'd always envied your friendship and you said I was being silly. Wasn't I justified, now? Was it alright to hate Moritaka now, for what he'd taken from me? You'd gone willingly, but you were stolen from me. Nothing I did was intended to push you away, Takumu. Only draw you closer. Hadn't you wanted that? Didn't you want that? Didn't you desire the same kind of eternity that I did? In this mortal world there's nothing such as eternity but if we can believe, we can stave off the certain knowledge of oblivion and be happy in our ignorance. And we had that, for a while. A little piece of forever.

Didn't we?

Maybe even that was a lie.


	14. A Memory of Soothing Lies

~14~

A Memory of Soothing Lies

Maybe it was all lies, now I come to think of it.

When I first told you I loved you, was that the truth? Did I really love you, or was I blinded by the front you presented? You had so many sides, Takumu. The you I knew, the you Moritaka knew, the you that was a humble student and the you that was an extravagant model. Were these all parts of the same person? I wanted to accept all of you, but the selfish part of me knew that I couldn't. Could I love all of you? Even the things I hated about you, and there _were_ things I hated about you, could I love them for being _you_? I saw you as the ultimate goal and all that I desired and refused to believe that something I desired so fervently could hold any fault. Perhaps no human could ever have measured up to how I saw you but you never discouraged me, Takumu. You let me think that you were wonderful. I wouldn't have believed you even if you'd told me the opposite but in retrospect, I might have appreciated the effort.

Perhaps I didn't love you. What is love, anyway? I don't really know and having come out the other side, I still couldn't say. 'Love' was... what I felt for Takumu. What _did_ I feel for Takumu? I couldn't describe it; _I don't know_. So what is love? I don't know. Something which existed once but died, according to the fickle whims of an egotistical teenager. Something I had no control over, something I let control me. Something I _wanted_ to control me. Like he did. They said I was too harsh in how I tried to control the Student Council and those beneath us, but I could never tame him. As much as I tried to.

If I did or didn't love you, if I can't be sure then maybe it wasn't true after all. The happiness of that time, of the sunshine on the school roof... maybe I was deluded somehow, you'd tricked me. Does that make it false, if I didn't realise? At the time I believed, I think. No, I know that much. I know that, at the time, I believed that you loved me.

Did you love me? The you that agreed to my feelings, the you that took my hand gently, the you that kissed me and took me further... how much of this was genuine? You never refused me. You agreed to my feelings. You told me you loved me. Yet how much of this was of your own accord? If I'd never told you of my feeling, would you have stepped forth in return or might the thought have never crossed your mind? I felt you loved me and you _told_ me you loved me but I never felt I knew how _you_ felt, Takumu. How far were we similar? Perhaps we weren't similar at all.

Maybe you were only pitying me. You, who was always so effortlessly confident. Perhaps you were always looking down on me, as you are now.

Maybe my love was never the kind that you wanted. You agreed to my feelings, thinking them commonplace. You went along with my feelings, thinking you could entertain them. I trusted you with more and more and the more you had the more I wanted to give you. It had to be everything, and maybe you didn't want that. I wanted you to be my centre and you _were_ everything but maybe, just as you couldn't understand that, I couldn't understand you, either. You with a career and friends and other such things. So too am I popular, but not as you are. As time went on, my reign was one of fear rather than camaraderie. I shut out everybody because _they weren't you_ and I shut you out because you weren't who you once were. When I had the misguided trust to believe everything you told me. Nobody had been important before you and during that time, you were the most important of all - and after you, then what? Who is there?

I thought the two of us were independent in our feelings. I thought we could do it on our own, so long as we were together. Ah, but to be independent is to do things on your own and to be on your own is to not be with anybody else. I didn't understand back then, not as I understand it now. Other people will only hurt us. That's the truth I learnt.

I thought you beautiful, then. I think you beautiful now. Everything about you. You still haunt my dreams, kind as you were. Your beauty wasn't a lie, but... don't they say that beauty is only skin deep? I don't think you're beautiful anymore, Takumu. Physically so, yes. If that were to be taken away from you... I'm not so sure anymore. I know I have no room to speak on that matter, but the point still needs to be made. I just... don't think you're a very nice person. I'm worse, but I _believed_ in you. It was always your place in life to be better than me and I thought you believed in me, too.

We were both selfish. I hated you for not wanting to compromise, but it was hardly as if I wished to compromise either. I wouldn't give up on what I believed in, but what is that now? Is it some kind of victory to be left only with the sense of knowing you stuck to what you believed in, if what you believed in turned out to be lies? Such a hollow victory, it seems. I won on principle. What do I have now? Nothing.


	15. Even Anger Is A Kind Of Passion

~15~

Even Anger Is A Kind Of Passion

During that time, the world was colourful.

I don't remember anything before that time.

Before that... before it all, that was when I was still innocent. A silly child who didn't know of the world, who wasn't _aware_ of the world.

You made me aware, Takumu.

You brought the colour and the life, the meaning and emotion.

Whatever had been beforehand was unimportant and afterward... well. You were everything, what could hope to follow on from that?

You're missing, Takumu. You're gone from me. I can't believe in what was, and I can't cope with things now. You who brought colour and life when you came to me, you took them all back dutifully when you left. The sun shone, but I didn't feel it anymore. It spurred reminder of how warm it'd felt, once. How happy it'd made me, back when _you_ made me happy. Now it was just a reminder, a bookmark, a cruel stab to make me hurt, knowing that things were different now.

The school was the same as it ever was. The buildings, the people, the dust underfoot... it was all the same as it used to be. For a short time, even it had seemed wonderful - but in that elation, everything had seemed wonderful.

Was this reality, now? This emptiness? When you had been the dream. Had I woken up from that?

What would it take to return to that?

Nobody could match up to what you were. Nobody could be as wonderful as you, as caring as you, as deep as you, as gentle as you. Nobody in this world, by physical limitation if nothing else, can be you, Takumu. Only you are you and it was only you for me. Anybody else... anybody else would only be judged against you and be found lacking. You, the first person to ever move me so... can I be moved again? Can anything move me? I see beauty in the world and I don't feel it, because I don't feel much. Because I felt too much, when it was you. Because I've forgotten what that meant.

You laugh at me, Aihara hates me, the others are frightened of me. I feel I should be affected by this somehow, that I should feel guilt for my actions but I don't care. I don't care about anything in this world that isn't you and it's not even you as you are now that I care about, but the memory of what you once were. You are not the person I fell in love with, Takumu.

(So who was? Where did he go?)

(Did he ever exist to begin with?)

(Maybe it was all a dream)

(I imagined it all)

(You didn't exist)

(What proof even is there that you did?)

(I thought you did)

(I doubt a lot of my thoughts now)

(All of those lies)

(Maybe you were a lie in yourself)

(Reality told you to me, and I believed)

(And now it's laughing at me)

Sometimes the yearning overcomes the apathy but it is not as it once was. A vague pull in the overbearing mist, when I lie in bed and can't move because moving would be too much. When I think of love and feeling, and think about what we had. Do others have that? Do other people in the world still live and love? Do other people feel what I felt and feel it with such vibrance?

Is the world still turning?

Does the world still have colour?

I don't feel it. I don't see it.

I want an interest. I want to be interested in something, just so I know I still can be.

I want to love, just to know I still can.

I want to be loved, just to know it's possible.

But

Maybe I won't, maybe I can't, maybe it isn't.

Perhaps, like how there are some things in the world that people can do and some things in the world that they can't, so too is this something I can't. Perhaps it just isn't possible. Maybe, just so as you couldn't accept my feelings, said that they were frightening and unhealthy... maybe just as much as they made you uncomfortable, so too would anybody else feel the same. Perhaps my feelings just were never the kind to be communicated to others. Perhaps I fell too far too hard too fast, but you didn't have to be so cruel, Takumu. You'd been gentle with me in the past, so what changed?

You'd thought me wonderful, beautiful, determined, impressive... anything you'd issued positive comment on, I couldn't believe in anymore. You'd told me you were proud of my achievements and so I wished to achieve more to keep you proud, to make you happy, to keep you complimenting me. After you, what was the point in anything? I could achieve the top marks for the entire country and you wouldn't issue a single word of congratulation to me. If I carry on or if I stop, what does it matter? You've managed to carry on perfectly, still happy and smiling like nothing happened and maybe it didn't, maybe it was indeed all just a lie.

Why do you get to be the happy one, Takumu?

Didn't you feel as much as I did? Didn't you want to have forever with me? Don't you feel sad, even just a little? Do you never have those melancholy moments where you remember what was and miss it incredibly?

I didn't want to die, but sometimes I'd think that you should kill me. I can't carry on with things as they are but I want to rely on you as I ever did, and if you kill me isn't that giving you my life, giving you simply all that I can? There would be no better place to die than in your arms. If it were by your hands, even death would be bearable. I could give you my life and you wouldn't have to put up with me anymore. We could pretend, for those last moments. That we still loved and you didn't hate me. You could smile at me and that would be the last thing I saw.

How many hours of how many days did I spend lying in bed thinking of such things? You'd called me unhealthy, back then. By that point, I agreed with you. Such destructive thoughts for such an extended period of time can't be healthy, not at all. But I didn't care. Healthy or unhealthy, these were meaningless words. All there was was to be loved or hated by you, the first was the yearned and the latter was reality and I wanted one and loathed the other and things couldn't go on like this, but how could they change? Maybe this was all that there was, this endless mist, this thick grey that everything seeped in.

I went to school, I did my work, I still achieved the top grades but I didn't care. Before him, I hadn't cared but I hadn't known to care, because it was simply what was expected of me. After him, I didn't care but worked because I could, because it was all I knew how to do. I couldn't be anything and I couldn't do anything but others expected it of me and couldn't know this pain. I would rather placate them than attempt to explain anything. To talk of it would have been too painful and nobody could understand this pain, _nobody_. Only those who had known Takumu as I did and who Takumu treated as he did myself and that could only be us. Similarities fell too far short and what were we left with? I couldn't hate him but I couldn't love him and between one and the other I didn't know _what_ to do.

And Katsuragi still stood by me. I didn't care and barely noticed, but his presence was always noted.


	16. Starless Night

~16~

Starless Night

I hurt myself and I hurt others. The former I couldn't help because it was Takumu's fault and the latter I didn't care about, because _they weren't Takumu_. I managed what school-related business had to be managed and I trained Aihara up to follow on from me once we third-years left. Some saw these things as unnecessary, mainly those immediately around me, but we all need a hobby, don't we? Aihara interested me, a little. Enough for me to keep him around, in any case.

And the days went on and things didn't change. Takumu and Moritaka, Kudou's exuberance, Aihara's submission, the Council meeting minutes. Every day, these ran to some kind of order and the days themselves had order, if not activity. They were repetitive, but I could do repetitive. As long as I did what I could to the end of the school year, that would be enough. The end would come, we would be free, the caged birds of Seirei Gakuen would fly free to pastures anew. We would go our separate ways, go to university, get jobs, live our lives. To most this seemed attractive, to me it seemed as dull as anything. What could be achieved in this life? What things could be gained, what might be lost? Maybe someday I'd 'get over' Takumu but in those last days of the term, I wasn't entertaining the thought as being anytime soon.

It was the evening of White Day of my third year, however, that attention was drawn to my closed-minded state. Something that told me that, for a moment, there was just _maybe_ something above and beyond this permeating mist, this fog that seemed to cover everything. Some things we don't notice, some things we don't _want_ to notice, some things we just won't notice until people inform us.

I was used to Katsuragi's presence. When we were in the first year, at the end of it, I remember standing outside the Student Council building, considering my future there. I remember Katsuragi as he was then, shy and flustered in front of his impressive senpai who turned out to be only a matter of days older than him anyway. He was nervous and he didn't know what to say, but he wanted to support me in all that I did. He genuinely admired me. I respected that and, at the time, I have to admit I was rather amused by this also. I found him a place on the Student Council. He wasn't confident in himself, but I said that I'd guide him.

And so he became a competent member of the Student Council. He wasn't loud or flashy or maybe even as immediately impressive as some of the other members - such as, for example, Takumu and his instant fame - but he had a quiet dignity and a silent compassion that made up for this. He wasn't as quick to come up with the flirtatious lines for our general public but he could plan events meticulously and without any form of problem. Those groups of girls who detracted from him - every girl had their favourites and least favourites on the Council - would say that he was too cold, too distant, almost like a computer or a machine or something, but those of us who knew him knew differently. He was on the Council but he simply hadn't managed to quite beat that shyness, that shyness that I too possessed but could hide in the public face of those who adored us. Those who knew us might have found me far colder and far more distant, but you wouldn't keep the public support with that (so I believed, though Nishimura seemed to do a fine enough job of it). He hid a lot, but that which he revealed revealed a far more sensitive Katsuragi than those girls around school might have immediately suspected.

The first and foremost was of course his strange friendship with Jinguuji. To most of us he was simply the school rebel and a bully and not the kind to perform any kind of action to make us think any different, but Katsuragi saw something different in him. They'd been friends for a long time it seemed, the source of which had been when Jinguuji had been held back a year in the middle school. He had few friends in his own year and even fewer in the year below which became his new year group, but Katsuragi befriended him and something was born then that carried on through. If it wasn't for Katsuragi, I might have been far harsher in my judgement of Jinguuji and his misdemeanours but when Katsuragi would tell me of the time the two of them spent together, I couldn't help but see a softer side. A side that Jinguuji would never reveal to _me_ of all people, of _course_, but one that nonetheless existed. Both Jinguuji and Katsuragi shared an affection for animals, Jinguuji wishing to pursue this into a professional venture. More than anything else Jinguuji was lonely, but had fallen too far into his stereotype to change public opinion of him. Then of course was his desire for Nishimura, which seemed to cause Katsuragi some distress. Nishimura was flighty and egotistical and that was where my sympathy for Jinguuji came from. The more Katsuragi told me, the more I saw myself and Takumu in their situation. The situations were different but the basic premise was the same and for that, I tolerated him. I don't think he ever knew my reasons, though.

Katsuragi had nurtured friendship with Jinguuji because he didn't want him to be lonely. He liked animals and animal films, would often work himself so hard he forgot to eat, wouldn't say much but took in everything with attentive eyes and a decisive mind. He worked hard and achieved much, in his own quiet fashion. More importantly, he'd been the only one I'd told about the situation with Takumu. After bringing him into the Student Council in the first place, he'd said he wanted to support me and I wanted somebody I could rely on and Katsuragi filled that position perfectly. Anything I needed, anything I wanted, anything that had to be done, he'd do it because I asked him. He took his position as my underling so seriously, simply seeing there no room for failure even in the smallest task. He had a strange kind of devotion I couldn't quite understand - it wasn't the devotion and submission of mindless passion that had been such between Takumu and myself, just... something that had to be done, something he believed in simply and wholeheartedly. Others would tell him that I wasn't in need of a servant or butler but Katsuragi would ignore them, because I was his Wada-senpai and that was all. Kudou was older than both Katsuragi and myself, but he didn't afford the same respect. There just seemed something unspoken about the whole situation, that I had asked Katsuragi to be by my side and not a single thing would detract him from this goal. I didn't understand it but I appreciated it nonetheless.

I'd told him of that between Takumu and myself simply because I had to tell _someone_ and I felt he was the only one I could trust. The happiness that was so strong it was almost unbearable but in the best possible way, I had to communicate it somehow...! There were many who would have used it against us, against my position on the Student Council and Takumu's career as a model, but out of everybody I trusted Katsuragi to stay silent. I told him of my happiness as far as I could describe it, much as language seemed to fail me in this respect. He absorbed it all, giving nothing away. He let me say everything and kept it to himself.

So too was he the first person I told after Takumu had ended it. He remained silent and still and accepted my words, then embraced me afterwards. Such an action was foreign from him and were it anybody else I would have shied away and pushed them from me, but because of what I'd just told him and because it was _him_, it was alright. Moreso even than Takumu, he was the only person this could be alright _with_. He could hold me because he _knew_ and I felt that he understood; it wasn't the heated touch I'd felt from Takumu but now that things were as they were, Katsuragi's arms felt _comforting_. And it hurt, because it reminded me of Takumu, but it helped and I didn't know why.

Katsuragi had been by my side since the very beginning but that was the first time I really _saw_ him. He fell back to being distant after that, as if he'd never done anything. I never asked him because it seemed impolite, and he simply didn't talk of that matter. Perhaps it just wasn't something to talk about, but it made me feel closer to him, somewhat. Everything of course was compared to Takumu and against Takumu Katsuragi barely measured, but there was a trust there that had been since the start and given all that had happened, all between Takumu and myself, what could shatter this with Katsuragi? He'd always been so devoted, even after all I told him and all that I _did_ after Takumu; I know that Takumu quite resented me for how I held the Student Council afterward but as always, Katsuragi silently observed it all and said nothing but always aided me, helped me, obeyed me. I still didn't understand but by that point it felt like I couldn't understand anything anymore; in the haze, I was ready to accept what trust there was and the certainty that it'd be destroyed somehow and likely by my hands, and yet... and yet Katsuragi _always_ stood by me. He was always there. In the corner of my vision, I could always see him. He said little and did less but what he did spoke volumes and I wondered if I was coming to rely on him as I had Takumu, but _different_ than before. I was scared once more but different, I didn't want to rely on anybody and I didn't want to be hurt again, but did Katsuragi even have the capability to hurt me? I realised an irony in the situation, him being someone who had always deferred to me and now suddenly he had the power, he wielded the weapons, he had enough to hurt me but chose not to and I _trusted_ him not to. Was that a kind of love, too? I didn't know. I didn't know anything. But it was _something_. Wasn't it?

White Day had gone well enough, following the Valentine's Day celebrations the previous month. A sizeable portion of our yearly budget fell into these two events but White Day especially would be our final event before we left Seirei, so as much as show appreciation for the girls around us, we had to give some appropriate kind of fanfare. And it had been impressive as it always was, stalls and events and chocolates given to _every girl in the school_ and I was glad we had the support of the Yoshizawas, who donated a lot and saved our budget from being the bombshell it could have been, but of course being on the Student Council one could easily call in these kinds of favours. There were fireworks and balloons, dances and prizes and practically everything we could think of to make it a memorable day. It had certainly been a busy day if nothing else and I didn't mind that; a busy day held more likelihood that my mind would be kept from thoughts of Takumu, even though he was right there in front of me for most of it. I was the last to go home; locking up the Student Council building, I felt a small sense of accomplishment that at least the students had been happy, even if I still felt distant. Perhaps this would be a cherished memory for those girls? If we were responsible, we could only feel glad. Such was the purpose of KISS in the first place, after all.

The months were leading into summer and it got darker later as the days went on. It was once it was dark, sat in my room doing my homework, that I received the text message from Katsuragi.

"_I'm finishing things off at the school. I'd like it if you were there. I'll be expecting you. ~Katsuragi~_"

Then another one,

"_Wear your uniform. ~Katsuragi~_"

I frowned at the messages, to begin with. What was there to finish off, anyway? We'd tidied everything away and everything was back to normal for the school day tomorrow, surely? Even if there were tasks to finish, which I was sure there weren't, why would Katsuragi require my presence? I was quite mystified, even entertaining the prospect for a moment that this was something more serious, the thought causing a hot flush of fear in my stomach. I changed back into my school uniform and made my way to Seirei Gakuen as quickly as I could, finding it as dark and empty as I suspected. I went to the Student Council building and it was locked from where I'd left it and I couldn't think of where else to go or where else he'd be, until I turned my back on the building and went back towards the school and saw a figure on the roof that could only be him. I made my way up there.

As I climbed the stairwell of the main building; it seemed strange, somewhat. To be in school at this time. Knowing that Katsuragi and myself were the only two left there. Compared to the hustle and bustle of daily school life, there was always something strange to me about the silence of the school at night, seeing it in a way it was never intended to be. Just hours earlier these corridors had been full but now there were only shadows; shadows, and myself. And Katsuragi, on the roof. I opened the door and made my way to the flat surface, momentarily taken aback by the view as I walked out onto the roof properly.

I'd been on the roof many times before, of course. You could easily see over the rest of the school and also to the city beyond, but I'd never been in school this late and I'd never seen the view of the city around at night from the roof before.

So many lights. So much movement. Pinpricks of light in the overbearing darkness, the neon signs from the shopping district and the stationary lights of windows in houses. Domestic situations, people living, people moving, people breathing in the city around us. The moving lights of cars, of people coming or going for their own reasons known only to them and them alone. All that which was going on around us and we stood as two humans alone in a silent building high above them all. With civilisation all around us, the school couldn't be dark even in the dead of night but it was still a limited light from the city that illuminated Katsuragi, stood with his back to me and a hand reached towards the sky, for a moment. Then the door closed behind me and he heard it, turning around to look at me and once more, it felt like I'd noticed him and only just noticed him for the first time. He was the same Katsuragi I always knew but he didn't _look_ like I knew him, something in his eyes seeming charged and determined. Tied to the railings next to him, once I thought to notice them, was a cluster of maybe about a hundred balloons. I looked at him and I looked at them and then I walked forward.

"_You're out awfully late, Katsuragi._"

"_We had all of these balloons left over. They won't last until we graduate but it seemed a shame just to let them down and throw them away..._"

Some of the strings had ribbons still tied to them. Classrooms and corridors had been decorated with the balloons... had Katsuragi really gathered them all together? I'd been content to leave them in the classrooms until they deflated, but he'd seemed to have other plans. This perhaps spoke some for his appearance; something about him seemed ruffled, though he still had an energy to him. If he'd been around the whole school gathering balloons to bring to the school roof then no wonder he might be breathless, from all of _that_ exertion.

I smiled at him. "_I'd thought we could just leave them in the classrooms, myself. It seems like you've put a lot of effort in here, haven't you?_"

Katsuragi didn't say anything.

"... _Why did you call me out here, Katsuragi? It's late, and we do have school tomorrow, as exciting as today was..._"

He was looking at the sky again. His eyes narrowed in some kind of wistful emotion before he looked back at me, "_It must be cloudy, tonight. I'd hoped that we'd see the stars from here, but it seems we're not that lucky._"

I glanced up myself, and he seemed to be right. A starless night. Not even the moon deigned to shed its light for us.

"... _There's something about the sky like that, isn't there? No stars, not even the moon... just a darkness._" I fell short as I remembered what I was reminded of. Such a darkness over us seemed fitting, the darkness that seemed to cover me was as just a blanket as this across the city. The city was full of light and life but the sky ignored that; all the light showed, after all, was how much darkness there was still out there, unconquered. We'd never beat it in the end, and we didn't even have the light of the stars to offer us hope. But there was still light around us, of humans and life that continued. So perhaps that was something. Maybe. Katsuragi spoke again.

"_I wanted to let off the balloons, but I thought it was a shame if only I saw them. I wanted you to see them as well._"

"_Maybe we should have invited the others? I'm sure they would have appreciated it--_"

"_I didn't want them here. Only you, Wada-senpai._"

It seemed strange enough that Katsuragi would be this decisive, though I'd see the same side of him a few weeks afterward when he'd confront Takumu on the roof. However, his was a kind of decisiveness I couldn't resist, a confidence in him I hadn't seen before. And yet he was still calling me 'senpai'. I smiled again and walked to lean against the railings, standing next to the balloons.

"_I'm sure I told you almost two years ago, Katsuragi. 'Wada' is fine, I'm still only eleven days your elder!_"

"... _Still_."

There was a silence as he stood next to me. He looked at the balloons, "_... It's a shame we didn't have any fireworks left. It feels almost as if they're wasted when you let them off during the day..._"

"_I know, though it couldn't be helped. And you just said that you only wanted me here... right? If you let off fireworks, that'd definitely make people notice that something was going on at the school, don't you think?_"

"... _That's true. It'd be best not to draw attention to ourselves._"

A short pause.

"_... I'll let off the balloons, now._"

"_Ah? Ah, alright._"

I stood back and let him untie them. We both watched in silence as they floated into the sky, guided by the slight breeze that stirred the warm night. They went towards the city, invisible but for the reflected light of that below them. We watched and we watched, we watched until we couldn't see any more. And Katsuragi was stood close to me, so I looked at him.

I didn't have anything to say to him, though. I just felt I should look at him. He still stared off in the direction the balloons had followed and I could see the same light reflected in his eyes, his profile seeming somewhat commanding in that moment. I wondered again what his actions meant and what my emotions were but I didn't know the answer to either, so I looked away. Under the darkness of the empty sky we were still just two humans, alone on an empty silent building. Even in a moment so awed by that around me as the warm nights of summer approached, I still thought of Takumu and what it would have been like if he were here, if he'd watched with us, even if it had been Takumu and myself rather than myself and Katsuragi. Those small balloons became less than nothing in the endless sky. They'd float where they would and die without destination and perhaps that was our fate, also. Graduation was too soon and coming ever closer. And I felt Katsuragi's hand close around my own and it reminded me of Takumu but Takumu was gone to me now, and Katsuragi was here and his hand was warm, not as warm as Takumu's had been but warmer than the loneliness and I laced my fingers alongside his. I'd done too much since to admit my fears and my hand shook as it held his and I don't know if he noticed, but he held my hand tighter and a small part of me wanted to believe that he did. That he noticed and that he knew what it meant. Katsuragi, who I'd always trusted. Katsuragi, who I always felt had understood me. Katsuragi, who I'd never understood myself. We were alone on the roof holding hands and there seemed to be an enormity in the small things and when he pulled me into an embrace, it seemed right.

No, more than that.

There was a desperation, all of a sudden. I don't know what it was but I think he felt it too because my fingers were almost clawing at his shoulders to hold him tighter and closer and his face pressed against the crook of my neck and shoulder and

_I want an interest. I want to be interested in something, just so I know I still can be._

_I want to love, just to know I still can._

_I want to be loved, just to know it's possible._

The apathetic curiosity became a physical desire in his arms. Katsuragi was always so distant but now he was closing that distance and I felt moved. I felt something, some kind of desire, some kind of _wanting_, but more than that, I _felt_. Nothing more than that but nothing _needed_ to be more than that because it was a feeling and _I_ was feeling and it was because of Katsuragi and I didn't understand it but I'd _never_ understood it and he couldn't leave me, he could never leave me because he knew everything and he was still here. He was by my side and he always had to be by my side and I didn't know how I felt this, only that I _did_ and that here was another kind of reliance, one I'd come to feel before I'd even realised it. He wasn't Takumu but somehow maybe he was more than that, because he was here and Takumu wasn't, he was _still_ here and Takumu wasn't, he was holding my hand and Takumu wouldn't and he was holding me and Takumu might never again and that thought was awful and horrible and terrible but Katsuragi would, because he'd said that he'd always support me and that he'd do anything for me. Would he even do this? Would he be what I wanted, what I needed? I didn't know, I didn't know. I only felt the vague brush of his lips against the skin of my neck and I didn't even know if he meant it, but I looked up at him with the desire to kiss him and he still had the light of the city in his eyes and I wanted to cry because I didn't know anything anymore, I didn't know anything and I didn't think I _could_ know anything. I'd settled to a future and an existence where there would be nothing and I could know nothing and I'd almost grown used to that, but I _couldn't_ because there was this here which was new and yet familiar and what path it set us on, I didn't know. Only that, under the loneliness of that sky, there was the desire of two people which created a warmth the darkness couldn't conquer. Even if it surrounded us, as long as we held each other, we would still _feel_. And I wanted to feel that, feel his warmth. Feel _any_ warmth. I didn't want Takumu's cruelty or Aihara's hatred, I wanted understanding like it'd been what felt like so long ago, and maybe it was, now. Maybe Katsuragi understood what I wanted. What I _needed_.

I cried against him because I didn't know what else to do. Because I'd barely ever cried in front of Takumu, because I didn't know what to do, because I hated things as they were and didn't know how to change them but felt that maybe Katsuragi could, somehow.

I had to be on my own because there was nobody else

but isn't that lonely?

Aren't things easier when there are two people, when you have some kind of help?

but people will only let you down

and abandon you

and hurt you

and leave you

there's no kind of help worth that

but

... what's worth the loneliness, either?

maybe nothing's worth it

maybe everything's worth it

maybe I wasn't on my own after all

Because Katsuragi had always been there

Even if I hadn't noticed

He'd been there

Always

And

Even now

He's

Still here

So

Maybe

Perhaps

He'll

stay

And maybe we can't move on so long as the past binds us. And it's frightening and it's scary and I looked at Katsuragi and wondered if he'd put up with it, if he'd mind my feelings, those feelings that still wanted Takumu and knew that he was gone but wanted him still and Katsuragi was here but could he be patient and put up with that? I felt broken and unfixable and yet still he held me and still I held his hand as if I was scared to let go. I _was_ scared to let go. I'd half-convinced myself already that Takumu was an illusion and something that hadn't existed so if Katsuragi turned out to be the same kind of being then I didn't think I could take it, I couldn't take being left again and by someone who was so loyal as Katsuragi. Maybe I had to turn my back on the past to move forward and it seemed a romantic ideal in my mind, but my heart couldn't take the thought of it and I didn't want to give up on my thoughts of Takumu, but could I have those and Katsuragi?

Could I have Katsuragi?

Was that what this was? Was this what he wanted? Was this the root of his loyalty, or was this _because_ of the loyalty? I didn't know, I didn't know and maybe I should have been braver, but I wasn't brave and I wasn't strong and Katsuragi suddenly seemed _so_ brave and _so_ strong and I wasn't a prince, but he was. We were all fake princes in this make-believe kingdom but where Takumu's strength had failed him, Katsuragi endlessly surpassed him. And hadn't he always been kind and compassionate and gentle and understanding? Perhaps, out of all of us, he was the true prince...

_A prince needs a princess_

And that wasn't me. I wasn't princess to anybody, not as the girls of Seirei were to us. Maybe this was what made Katsuragi a fake prince along with all the rest of us. Taking a different path. Even if I were the type, even if I was feminine or effeminate, I was still broken and ugly in all the ways that Takumu had told me so. I felt like I could shatter and that nothing about me was right, because Takumu had said so. Because his opinion was the most important. Because I'd always believed what he'd said and now I saw that as lies, but what he said as still being the truth. And Katsuragi said nothing but he didn't push me away, he didn't call me wrong or broken or dirty, he didn't call me terrible or awful or horrible or unforgivable even though I was, I was to all I came across and there wasn't a life I could touch that I couldn't ruin, but wasn't this a power we all had? Maybe I had more power than others, the power of a demon or a devil, something evil and I _am_ evil, Katsuragi! Can't you see this? All the things I've done, all that I've done to people, all that I've made Takumu hate me for... this isn't normal because I'm not normal, this isn't good because _I'm_ not good, and you're so very good, you're endlessly kind in every area I lack and your patience and kindness and I don't understand you and didn't understand you and don't want to understand you because maybe if I do, it'll break.

He held my hand, still entwined with his, to his lips. With deep eyes and a nervousness I felt reflected, he pressed his lips to the back of my hand.

(_It's because the two of us are fragile and imperfect that we'll stay holding hands forever_)

I wanted

to believe

in it

in him

his warmth

because I'd believed in Takumu and thought he believed in me, but that was long since proved as lies

and if this too was lies, then I couldn't take it

but Katsuragi kissed me, then

And it was different

but _he_ was different

and he wasn't Takumu but that was why I wanted

because even if Takumu were here

like this

after everything

I don't think I could

but with Katsuragi

I could

and did

on the roof of the empty school under the darkness of a starless moonless sky with the light and life around us of lives I didn't know and lives that didn't know us

we were desperate because we wanted to believe

because we both wanted

because I was crying but I didn't care

because I couldn't look away from Katsuragi's eyes

because we never stopped holding hands throughout

because I'd had many since Takumu but none like this

because I'd had Katsuragi before, but not like this

because before was always restraints and bonds to make sure I was in control

and I wasn't in control anymore

because I could trust him

I trusted him

I trust him

He looked at me and I didn't recognise the look in his eyes

(but I did, because it was how I used to look at Takumu)

and our discarded clothes barely moved against the gentle breeze

and I hadn't even been able to masturbate since Takumu because I felt too ugly and dirty and guilty and alone

and I came when Katsuragi did and we kissed and I cried out loudly but didn't care because nobody was around to hear

and I wanted it again

so we did

and again

so we did

and we were tired

but we couldn't stop

because this might all still be a dream

or an illusion

or a dream in the illusion

and at night it was alright but in the morning we'd wake up and it might all be gone and I couldn't take losing anything else

And not long after that, we graduated. The school once more was full of balloons and celebrations and tears and speeches, and I passed the leadership of the Student Council down to Aihara. Takumu and Moritaka announced the new members of the Student Council as being, alongside Aihara, Honma and Kondou. And they were surprised because it _was_ a surprise, but it was because that was how Aihara had wanted it. Because he didn't want to be apart from his Ichii-kun even on the Student Council, and the three of them had a friendship that would never be broken, apparently. I felt the vague interest to keep an eye on that to see how things turned out, but Aihara was still an optimistic first-year despite all that had happened, so I felt he was entitled to that, for now. I wouldn't spoil his boyish dreams, that'd be for him to do himself. Ah, how beautiful things break so easily. Yet it seemed that even I hadn't managed to break Aihara entirely, so perhaps there was hope for him yet? The rest of the school cheered as we made the announcements. It's your business now, Aihara. Kondou. Honma. Moritaka. Takumu. You'll be a Student Council that has nothing to do with me, and I'm sure you'll be glad of it. But I chose Aihara for a reason, so... well. You'll find out soon enough.

And so we left Seirei Gakuen. Myself, Katsuragi, Kudou, Jinguuji, Nishimura, we of the third year. We became distant in the literal sense and vowed to stay in contact, in truth with some more than others. Katsuragi told me in his matter-of-fact sort of way that he'd call every day, and to be fair, he kept to that promise as far as he could. He'd tell me if he couldn't phone and phoned when he could and that was enough of the promise for me. Kudou, I received a few emails from but didn't feel the need to reply. Aihara would email me and I'd reply but Kudou... I felt glad to be away from him, to be honest. Sometimes I'd hear from Takumu, once I heard from Moritaka. I didn't hear from Jinguuji or Nishimura, but I had Katsuragi to keep me up to date.

And there was the new workload, new classmates, new responsibilities and the kinds of things that made the efforts of a Student Council seem very small indeed. We thought we were mature and responsible back then, but we'd still done the things we liked when we wanted to do them and did things just because we could. Aihara's emails seemed further and further away the longer I was at university, and so many things I remembered as happening still felt like distant dreams. I'd done those things, hadn't I? Ah yes... yes, I had. Still. We were adults, now.

And yet I still thought of Takumu. Those thoughts still consumed me and Katsuragi remained by my side but still at a distance, and that didn't help when I felt lonely and couldn't talk of it. I'd tell him on the phone afterward, that I'd been lonely. And he'd say that I should have called him and I'd agree, but I knew inside that I wouldn't have known what to say. But eventually we made it through and jobs were taken and lives were lived and when I moved back to Japan, Katsuragi was still there, and he was waiting for me, and I appreciated that.


	17. The Unfeeling Memory Of Pain

~17~

The Unfeeling Memory Of What Pain Used To Be

He comes over most days, now. He still sleeps on the sofa and every time I look at him I _still _think that he wasn't suited for the Student Council, that he was too nice for it, that maybe he was the true prince out of all of us. But these thoughts are related to distant memories, and none of us are princes anymore. It really was an illusion back then, wasn't it? The strange pull that small power had over us. Over me. I who led and those who followed, we who ruled over a castle in the clouds. I think back on them and I smile, even to think of the painful things. We were so naive back then, weren't we? The whole school living a lie that became reality because we all wanted to believe. The girls wanted us as their princes and we wanted to feel that nobility and that strength and we all had the selfish egotistical nature to believe that we could. And we did, perhaps. And we don't talk about it anymore. The girls of Seirei probably remember their days at school so innocently, their favourites on the Council and the events which took place. Only we who were involved remember that which we remember and as a rule, we don't mention things as they were. That's all in the past now.

I returned to Japan to find Nishimura on the cover of magazines and news of Takumu filling the columns inside. Things change, but perhaps not as much as one would believe. I remember the big news back in our university days was that Synchro had broken up, but such a thing couldn't stop Nishimura singing on his own. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was perhaps _because_ Nishimura wanted to sing on his own, even. When nobody tempers your desires you'll take what you want because you can and for that reason alone. Ootori reminds me, sometimes. I tend to grace his comments with a respectful silence. I don't give him the satisfaction of my irritation.

Katsuragi came to my door quite dutifully not long after I'd moved back and visited often after that. Even after the guest bedroom was furnished, he chose to sleep on the sofa. He felt more comfortable that way, he said. I argued that a bed was likely far more comfortable than a sofa, but it didn't seem in _that_ sense which he meant it. That level of devotion still remained and I wondered if we'd ever rid ourselves of that distance of status. Such a thing seemed ridiculous; we'd both been successful, it just so happened that my success was more important to the fate of our social climate than his was. That didn't stop the fact that we'd both been successful. Even in school he'd been like that though, always deferring and demure, so perhaps it was simply hardwired into him somehow. Kudou would tell me of Haninozuka's rather constant 'companion' and I'd be reminded of my own relationship with Katsuragi. Perhaps some people are just born to that kind of duty; I wasn't, and so had no concept of the idea.

The nights were increasing in their warmth and sleep only came with difficulty. I would come to the front room and sit in the comfortable chair next to the sofa, watching with a faint sense of envy that _he_ seemed to have no problem sleeping. He slept only with a thin sheet covering him, so perhaps that was the reason. Or perhaps Katsuragi just slept easier than some of us. Perhaps he had some form of meditation or astral aide, I had no knowledge of those things and left them in his capable hands to do with as he saw fit. And the moonlight would fall through the patio windows and leave long shadows across the floor, the sight of seeing Katsuragi under the moonlight similar to seeing him illuminated by the city as I had maybe some ten or more years previous. And it seemed strange to think it had been that long; how far we'd come, how much we'd stayed the same. How, even after all this time, Katsuragi still slept on my sofa. How, after all these years, I still thought of Takumu. Sometimes.

It was different now, though. Back then is an experience I can barely remember, the feelings so intense and yet so absent now. I remember at the time feeling so awful about it - if I couldn't keep Takumu then couldn't I at least keep the memory? And perhaps to some a treasured memory is one kept forever, but I wonder if such things, like fantastical ideas of love and trust and eternity, are lies told to us as children to placate us into silence. I remember that I felt strongly, back then. I have a definite memory that I had that kind of feeling, but I couldn't tell you now what that feeling was like; it was hard enough to describe then, let alone now... and now those feelings for Takumu are as much as the memories they are, which is nothing. I haven't seen nor contacted him in years and so too has he not tried, and the pain has dulled along with the memory and I remember him, but distantly. I think back to the myself that was so consumed by feeling for him and wonder how I was able to feel so, feel that for _him_, feel anything of that magnitude... ah, but we were children, then. Letting ourselves be consumed by anything because we haven't built the protection to keep ourselves distant, or so I'd say. I met many adults who lacked this quality so perhaps such a concept is mine alone and, like those women accusing me, I am simply too distant to form a connection to. I wouldn't argue that.

I would think of Takumu, think of the things he said to me, those honeyed words now lacking their affection and the context now lost to the whims of time. The dream, the illusion... sometimes I'd think of meeting him, we'd stand alone on a pier at night as the waves crashed around us and he'd ask me back and would I accept? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Sometimes my dream would guide me through the vague remnants of pain he left me with, sometimes my dream would enjoy hurting him. Sometimes I'd feel guilty for still clinging on to tiny things but most times I didn't. It was a small dream, one only I was aware of. What are you like now? In my dream, you've lost your ego and realise your faults. I too made mistakes but I don't have to admit such things, not in my own dreams.

But such things can't take up too much time anymore. A memory of pain is just a recollection and reflection on love only a curiosity. I felt that for him? Really?

I'm curious about him. What he's doing, where he is now, how he is, what he's _like_ now... and I'll sit and wonder, a little. I'll stir my cup of coffee in the afternoon sun and wonder what he's doing and not think anything more of it. I wonder if there's some part of my mind genetically engineered to answer 'Takumu' to every situation. I wonder if I should fight that urge. That company'll go down if I don't do something about it. Attention diverted.

I watch Katsuragi in the moonlight and wonder if I should really have invited him back. Is he not a relic of a past I've slowly moved myself away from? He who knew all of Takumu and myself... is that knowledge worth anything anymore? I can live by myself now, I don't need to be waited on. How much of our interaction is built only on our nostalgia? I wonder, but I don't have the heart to push him away.


	18. Basic Emotions, the Small Progression

~18~

Basic Emotions, the Small Progression

I sat reading the newspaper. Katsuragi was in the kitchen, making dinner.

My eyes fell over the words but my mind didn't read them. Internally, I was only quite baffled by how domestic our situation had become. Katsuragi seemed to spend more time at my house than he did his own and he was a capable cook and so enjoyed preparing my meals and this only made me feel more like I was being waited on like I always had been by him, but after so long I supposed his habits couldn't be changed.

"Moritaka's having another portfolio shown at the art centre next week."

"Oh?"

"Mm."

The sound of Katsuragi chopping something, then a pause. He peered around the doorframe, "Wada? Do you prefer white bread or brown bread?"

I let the paper fall to my lap as I leant against the back of the chair to look up at him. He watched me with those open and curious eyes and I watched him with a different kind of emotion, wondering why things were like this, wondering about our behaviour, wondering about myself, wondering about _him_.

"... Katsuragi, can I ask you a question?"

Those eyes never changed, "Of course, what is it?"

I wondered if there was a subtle way to suggest it, but couldn't think of one.

"Would you like to move in with me?"

"... Wada?"

"You spend so much time over here, I thought maybe you'd like to." I went back to the paper. "If you don't want to, that's fine too. I just thought I'd ask."

I couldn't see it with my eyes, but I could visualise Katsuragi's boyish insecurity all too well. The question seemed to take us back to outside the Student Council Building as our first year ended. Do you want to be on the Student Council, Katsuragi? Do you want to move in with me? Such weighty questions.

"... That'd be such an inconvenience for you, though..."

"Not particularly. I mean, you can pay rent, can't you? You're always coming over as it is, it just seems rather pointless you keeping the lease on somewhere else when I've got more than enough room here for you. I mean, as I said, if you don't want to, that's perfectly alright. If you'd rather have your own place for your own reasons, then--"

"I'd like to!"

That sudden tone of voice, a little higher than his usual. I really think he became fifteen again, just in that moment.

"Really? Good. You can have whichever one of the spare bedrooms you like. Feel free to move your things in whenever you want."

"... You're sure it's alright?"

"We'll sort out the legalities later. Of course it's alright, would I suggest it if it wasn't?"

"... I-indeed..." Another pause. "... But which kind of bread do you prefer...?"

Katsuragi moved in not long after this. I didn't like to come across as overly boastful to those I encountered but I meant it when I told him that there was more than enough room; I'd have room for Katsuragi and still more for guests, not that I had that many visit. He could have his own living room and study if he liked, since I used them more as storerooms than anything else, for the time being. He helped to tidy and rearrange, and his things came and so we moved them in and things, as I'd thought, were really not so different. I left for work in the morning far before he did, often leaving while he was still asleep. I'd come back to find a meticulously-prepared meal, a '_welcome back_' and a '_how was your day?_' and those were the things I hadn't expected to find so different. Just the small elements of a domestic lifestyle, to come back home and have somebody wonder how your day was... it seemed so strange I could barely fathom it, but it seemed to be yet another part of his ongoing duty.

I remembered things I'd forgotten about him. Realised that he was still quiet and withdrawn, but that this was just how he was. Remembered his affectation for animals before he moved in, when he said that he wouldn't move if it wasn't alright for him to bring his cats. I preferred cats over dogs and so didn't mind, though they had the knack of getting into even the most unlikely spots of the house. He'd sit on the patio in the sun and smile as he teased the cats with string and I wondered what I felt for him, still.

It'd been so long and I still wasn't sure.

Especially after he moved in, I found myself considering this. I asked him to move in because I assumed it easier for him... but was that all of the matter? Perhaps I too felt some desire to have him closer, to close that distance that always seemed to remain between us. Yet this seemed... unsatisfactory, somehow. Remembering the hazy past between us, those distant dreams of Seirei. When we'd been childish and desperate, when you told Takumu that you hated him and when I needed you so keenly. Do you still hate Takumu, or does he simply not figure in your thoughts now? Clearly I still figure in your thoughts, so much that you remained with me through university and even now so long after that, but were we ever 'with' each other to begin with? I remember us on the roof and that nothing came of that afterward, in retrospect. Takumu told you to look after me and you did, you do, you are, but... what of that? Is that enough for you? Don't you want more?

Perhaps or perhaps not. Perhaps this is what you're happy with; living with me and your cats in this platonic sense. Maybe we'll meet other people, someday. Maybe it's alright to be just friends, sometimes.

"... Katsuragi?"

"Yes?"

"We've been living together for nearly six months now."

"Has it been that long already? It barely feels like anything..."

"We've known each other practically since primary school."

"You're really making me feel old now, even _that_ doesn't feel like it was so long ago..."

"Don't you think it's about time we were on first-name terms?"

"... W-Wada--?"

It had taken long enough to take him from calling me Wada-senpai to Wada-san to Wada itself, but I felt it had been long enough now. So too was I rather used to calling him Katsuragi, but for two men with a questionable past now living together, I felt it was right. After all, I'd only known Takumu very briefly as 'Kirihara'.

"... So... I should call you..."

"Yoshikuni. And I'll call you Keigo. Alright? Keigo?"

"Yo-Yoshikuni..."

The name felt strange to my lips and I suppose mine did to his also. Takumu had always jokingly complained that my name was too long and that he'd been quite happy to happen upon 'Kuni' as a nickname. Nobody had called me that since and I didn't see Katsu--... I didn't see Keigo as the type to complain about namelength, either. With him it almost felt like the opposite; I was so used to knowing him as Katsuragi that 'Keigo' seemed far too short and strange a name for him, but it _was_ his name and it was his given name, and we'd never cross the distance between us if we didn't try, after all. And I knew that after the suggestion was put into place that Keigo would do his best to stick to it and his best was always impeccable, so even if he had any doubt, he wouldn't communicate such a thing. And sometimes I wondered if this was a bad thing, or if he'd let me know even if _he_ thought it was, but supposed I might never know.

One night I came home from work quite late to find Keigo asleep on the sofa. I checked his bedroom; his bed was made to an immaculate standard, so I supposed that it was simply a case of old habits dying hard more than anything else. One of the cats circled me before leaving to find amusement elsewhere and it _was_ late and Keigo seemed so comfortable, wrapped up in a sheet as he always had been, the moon shining in as it always did and me watching him, as I could never stop.

... You deserve far better than me, Katsuragi Keigo.

You deserve far, far better.

But I'm selfish and a small part of me still burns with the passion of endless summers past, the urge to keep you here. Because if you left, what would we be left with? Sometimes I wonder. Maybe we are all we have and maybe this is alright, but maybe it could be more, and maybe that could be alright too.

You're starting to remind me of how lonely I was and how lonely I am. Your presence in the house hasn't alleviated this, Keigo. Don't you remember how I used to be? If it's with me, it has to be everything. I can't be content with only this, it has to be _more_.

But relationships don't work like that anymore. People aren't so dramatic, are they? We had the freedom to be melodramatic, back then. Melodrama doesn't fit in between working and doing the washing and making the dinner and feeding the animals. We lived a sheltered life, then. We live freely now, to do as we want. We do as we want and we realise that it isn't _that_. We were terrible then, weren't we? Perhaps we've learnt something since then, but I still harbour a small loneliness. I'm used to being alone, but not while I'm in your presence. I remember your warmth from way back when and I see your smile now and I remember that, I remember that and I wonder if it's something you still want.

You were never the kind to ask. I usually don't lack this skill, having grown in the world of business, but when it's you and we're on our own, I feel speechless in a way I haven't in years. I want to ask so I can know your feelings but I don't want to in case I don't like the answer. Though, thinking that, to know your feelings... I still wonder, can you ever really know someone's feelings? It never seemed to be my experience. I never knew what Takumu was thinking. You're not Takumu and I'm not who I was but what are we now? Where are we, how are we? I don't know. I watch you sleep and the small loneliness grows.

I never knew how Takumu felt, I never knew how I felt... I always thought I was too in possession of my own feelings but I wonder now if I even knew myself, back then. Now. Perhaps I did know myself then, but I don't know myself now. The pull is not as it once was but is too much to be ignored, I wonder if I want you or am used to you or only wish for you to satiate my own private loneliness and yet I know the answer could never be so clear-cut; it could be a mix of some of those, all of them, none at all.

I remember a similar kind of feeling and it surprises me to recall such feeling at all. Back at Seirei. Jinguuji. At the time I thought I felt nothing for him, but I got used to him. He amused me in the superficial way I allowed myself to be amused, to distract from Takumu and the thoughts he brought me. Like some kind of pet. Like these cats of yours, Keigo. I'd miss them if they went, but you can't control a cat. If you chose to go, wouldn't I be powerless to stop you? The thought of stopping you seems foreign and alien - if you want to leave then that's your business and your business alone, and if that made me sad then that's my own business to cope with on my own terms. Would it make me sad? The house would certainly be emptier again. I'd miss your cooking.

I'd miss your small moments of affection. So brief and subtle, but I miss none of them. I recall them in the quiet moments, when the meeting's over and we've gone for coffee but the other businessmen around me are talking of wives and children and golf and such things. I entertain them as is my job, but I can't keep such dry thoughts all day. I think of you and you make me smile.

What is that, Keigo?

Why do you make me smile?

_Why_?

... I don't think you'd be able to tell me even if I were to ask you. But, would it make you happy to _know_ that you made me smile...?


	19. Passing So Close Without Touching

~19~

Passing So Close Without Touching

Sometimes I forgot that Keigo was a successful public figure in his own right. His fate was far different than mine and on the whole I tended to despise the genre of entertainment brought about by minor celebrity, but then we'd be out and Keigo would be recognised and I'd suppose that he _was_ a minor celebrity, in his own way. I received a lot of letters on business-related matters, but he got as much fanmail as he had when we were at Seirei; businesswomen who thanked him for his guidance and housewives who relied on his horoscopes, young girls who had crushes and couples who wouldn't have got together were it not for his advice (or so they said).

Katsuragi Keigo wrote books on the subject, thick tomes analysing the stars and their movements in near-tedious detail, the subject not one I felt I'd ever know much about. He wrote books and magazine columns, he wrote the horoscopes and he answered problem pages. The kind of self-help hero to those who felt the need to rely on such things, I'd never placed much stock in it but he was certainly successful on it, so I supposed there was no harm in it, at least from _our_ perspective. I'd come home to find him deliberating in his reading glasses, telling me of the troubles that Capricorn was giving him. And I couldn't help, so I'd just let him talk. He seemed to work out the problems on his own, but sometimes I supposed it _does_ help to let others know of your ideas, so perhaps even only my presence was aiding him. I was glad of that, since I knew of no other way to assist him.

I knew nothing of his own world of speciality, just so as he knew nothing of my business ventures, I supposed. Sometimes such things were just meant to be separate. However, if he stopped me as I left the house and told me not to make any business deals on that day, I'd listen to him. I was powerful enough that there were very few who would argue should I ask for a date deferral. I didn't know what would happen otherwise, but it did no harm to be cautious with important things.

A more recent development had been his television spots. I couldn't have named the magazine programme if I'd been pressed for it but it was one of these morning shows, on while most respectable people were either at school or work or some similar venture. He'd field questions from the audience and give his advice and again, it seemed to serve him well and so I didn't make much mention of it. Then he brought his assistant home with him one night and I wished he'd mention a little more. I came home to find them sat on the sofa in the main front room, papers spread across the table in front, Keigo in his glasses and the two of them deep in thought. Some work-related issue, then? I stood and watched them for quite some time before my movement disturbed them of my presence; for those so in tune with the Astral Plane or whatever, I would have thought they'd have noticed long before then but perhaps it doesn't work like that, I don't know of these things.

"Ah! Yoshikuni, welcome home, I'm sorry I wasn't there when you came in-- have you been back long? Something important came up at the station and we've got to work on this before the end of the week..."

"Do you want me to cook dinner?"

He swept his glasses off momentarily, his eyes showing a mix of apology and gratitude. "If you don't mind?"

He never seemed to ask anything of me, so it seemed rather childish to make an issue of such a thing. I was capable of cooking so I didn't mind, but I _did_ mind other people in my living space without prior warning. If he'd asked I wouldn't have refused, if it was really so important then it couldn't be helped, and maybe Keigo had never been so conscious of my various issues dealing with personal space and intimate social protocol as Takumu had been but it irritated me in that irrational kind of way and I left them alone for the rest of the evening.

Keigo had spoken of her before I believe, but I couldn't remember her name. Maho or Miho or Miyuki or _something_ like that, or maybe not that at all. She didn't concern me so it wasn't important, but her voice carried through the hallway and she seemed enthusiastic enough. I could picture her as a television personality, all smiles and joy and happiness... was she also trained in Keigo's area of expertise or was she only to help boost his ratings? Such was our shallow society. I sipped tea on my own as I waited for the oven.

We ate together and I smiled and kept up appearances as much as I felt was necessary. She was pleasant enough I suppose, as unaware of my position in society as I was hers and we spoke of things that didn't matter until Keigo said that they didn't have much time and so had to get back to the project. I didn't know what kind of project it was; I wandered in and out on occasion bearing mugs of tea and coffee, but these visits didn't illuminate me any. If it was important to Keigo then it was likely of some worth, though.

I heard them working (and talking) well into the night, and in the end I supposed that though this _was_ my house, Keigo lived here as much as I did and I could go to bed when I wanted if I wanted, that was my prerogative. So I went to bed to the sound of them talking and drifted off without thinking too much of it.

I woke up in the night as I sometimes did, the warmth keeping me on the edge of sleep and the desire for a glass of water too great to resist. I walked through to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, wandering into the front room as I drank it. Curiosity piqued me; the lights were off and the talking had stopped so clearly it was late enough even for those two. I went to the sofa and saw the papers still spread over the table and Keigo on the sofa as seemed to be his usual. Had Miss Assistant gone home? She hadn't brought anything to mark her presence in the first place. Perhaps Keigo had fallen asleep before her and she'd left silently? I went to his bedroom to check, just to be sure. I opened the door slowly and quietly, not wishing to wake her were she asleep, as well she should be by this time. It'd be just Keigo's style to offer the lady his bedroom while taking the sofa and it seemed that I was right, at least in that respect. Miss Assistant was not, however, asleep.

As I opened the door I heard her whisper, "... Keigo-san, you kept me waiting...!"

I opened the door fully at that, taking in the light of the bedside lamp illuminating Miss Assistant's very exposed and very naked figure lying on top of the undisturbed sheets. I stood with my hand still on the doorhandle, eyebrows raised and mouth open as those words sunk in. It took us both a moment or two to react, and in that time I was able to acknowledge that she'd be considered quite attractive if you liked that kind of thing, curved and slim in all the places that people thought mattered and a confident manner that lasted until my presence occurred to her, at which point she squealed and pulled the sheets around her.

"Wa-- Wa-- Wa-- Wa-- Wada-san--! I, I, I, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I, I thought, that is-- I mean, I, I'm sorry!"

I kept my tone neutral, "I'm sorry if you were expecting somebody else. I saw that Keigo was asleep on the sofa so I was just wondering if you'd taken his room or if you'd gone home... clearly, you're here, so... well. I'm sorry for intruding."

"I, I, I didn't mean to do something embarrassing!"

I'd been on my way out of the room by that point, but I paused and looked back around the door at her. She sat with the sheets pulled over the front of her body, but I could still see the lines of suggestion that formed her body, her slender shoulders and the swell of her breasts and the aesthetically pleasing curve of her hips and wondered if it was alright by this point to hold a girl in her early twenties as being attractive, but supposed that many older men than I thought a lot worse and besides, I'd always been interested by the aesthetic. My tone, however, was quite dry and I wonder if I meant it to be, but I couldn't help myself. Again, even I had done a lot worse, back in the day.

"... I believe you did, but that's alright. I'll leave you be. Goodnight."

I heard her harried "_Goodnight--!_" from the other side of the bedroom door, holding an unexpected weight in my chest as I made my way to my own bedroom.

I supposed I couldn't begrudge the girl if she had some feeling for Keigo, since this would only be her and most of those who watched his spot on television, read his column and followed his horoscopes, but that she'd be in my house under my roof unnerved me somewhat. It wasn't as if I hadn't been presented with a naked woman before and it wasn't as if I hadn't slept with women before and maybe that made it all the worse, because all of a sudden I was imagining if Keigo entertained this girl (in so many senses of the word) and the thoughts disturbed me but wouldn't go away. Of course, Keigo himself was far too much the gentlemen to do such things in the house of another, but was that a possibility? Did he feel any attraction to this girl? They'd laughed easily enough, earlier on... but they worked together and on television too, so they were practically required as part of the job to have a good working relationship... and she'd call him '_Keigo-san_' in such an annoyingly familiar way, and saying '_you kept me waiting_' like she'd been _expecting_ him... was she overly optimistic or did she have reason to back up her claim? I didn't know what Keigo did while I was at work, after all.

But even then, it wasn't as if I had any right to lay claim to him _myself_ as per se. We lived together and I felt we were both satisfied with that, as satisfied as I could be with my mixed and inexplicable feelings (or not) towards Keigo himself. A few times there had been things a little deeper, but my mind had somewhat reset itself to some midpoint as it had been even back during _those_ times. There were those - and had been, in the meantime - that I'd treated with disinterest but such things had not led to much and I didn't look on them as anything. Certain forms of touch and affection just set forth such an ardent paranoia in my mind that I couldn't help but lash out, something I thought Takumu had helped me with but now something I wondered if he'd harmed more than helped, in the long run. And sometimes Keigo had tried to kiss me but I couldn't let him, not without knowing, not without being sure, not without... without... without something that was missing that I didn't know how to gain.

I'd kept pushing Takumu away because I wanted the reassurance that he'd always return no matter how hard I pushed him, and that was, I felt, how I lost him. Was I now, after all this time, doing the same thing to Keigo? Keigo, who I wasn't even sure how I felt towards. Maybe it was unreasonable to assume that he'd simply keep trying, maybe it was selfish to think I'd be his only concern, perhaps it was unrealistic to think he wouldn't have sought comfort elsewhere. If he knew it made me uncomfortable then he'd have no reason to tell me, after all.

Miss Assistant didn't visit our house after that.

Keigo didn't invite many people over but those who did visit always seemed to be a surprise. Sometimes this was due to people dropping in unexpectedly, but I would have appreciated at least some vague knowledge of who he'd given our address to, if nothing else. His agent passing on fanmail was one thing, surprise visitors were something completely different entirely. Especially when the visits would be _so_ surprising.

I came home from work another time, noticing that Keigo wasn't on the doorstep to welcome me home as he usually was. I couldn't smell cooking and I could hear activity going on from the front room, so I assumed that Keigo had a visitor. My mind went to the assistant, of course - but as I took my shoes off I could hear another voice and though I couldn't make out the conversation, it was easy to tell that our visitor wasn't one of Keigo's ladyfriends. A friend, a colleague, a relative? I always had that sense of apprehension on hearing unfamiliar voices but generally (for the most part) trusted Keigo's judgement in people and so did my best to come across as easy-going. I didn't want to leave a bad impression on his friends, did I?

The sofa faced the patio windows and the garden beyond, thus meaning that it backed on to the main door to the room. Having slipped out of my work clothes I quietly made my way to the front room and could see Keigo sat with someone on the sofa, though I couldn't make out who they were just from the back of their - his - head. His hair was very red, though. I wonder if I should have made the association from that alone, but I'd been so used to his black highlights I hadn't been too sure in school which had been his natural haircolour at first, though I'd found proof later on. Dying your hair was strictly forbidden but he'd never thought to stick by the rules. Still, I didn't realise it was _actually him_ until he turned around and saw me.

They were in the middle of conversation, but I saw little in disturbing them. "Keigo! You didn't tell me we were due any guests today? Well, it's not a problem. So, who's your friend?"

Both Keigo and Jinguuji turned to face me, both surprised to see me but Jinguuji a little more so - a lot more so, even. He leapt from the sofa and stood away from it, back turned to me and curling in on himself almost as if he couldn't breathe; I recognised an anxiety attack when I saw one but was surprised to see one nonetheless and I just stood there for a few moments before Keigo leapt up also, going to Jinguuji to aid him and turning to me with an expression I didn't understand.

"... Yoshikuni, can you leave us alone for a few moments, please?"

"... Of course..."

I retreated to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Tea had calmed many a situation in the past and I felt it was all I could do to try to patch the suddenly fraught situation somehow myself.

I'd been taken aback by his reaction, so it wasn't until the kettle was brewing that my previous half-second line of thought had reoccurred to me. Jinguuji! Jinguuji was in our house! Such a thing seemed so strange, but despite our interactions in the past I didn't feel displeased to see him, only... surprised, I suppose. Surprised and somewhat curious. What was _he_ doing now? Looking so respectable. He'd spent so much time at Seirei with his hair spiked and dyed and styled and whatever else one could do to their hair that I supposed I'd never seen him with his _natural_ hair. Of course, we were much older now and he reflected that, his hair more respectable and free of gel or dye. I'd watched the conversation he and Keigo had been having before I'd interrupted and I'd seen his face before he'd startled and the one thing that struck me was how much _softer_ he seemed, somehow. At school he'd always been on-edge, moody, surly, aggressive... such extended emotions can have a definite effect on one's physical bearing. It seemed as if he'd risen above how he was in school and all the more power to him for it, and he wouldn't prove me wrong in this respect.

Jinguuji was another I hadn't seen since Seirei. Even when we graduated, I didn't really talk to him... I very rarely spoke to him in our usual school environment, after all. The times I saw him were always when he was brought in front of the Student Council for another minor misdemeanour, were when I took him to the Student Council basement for his respective punishment. Given his nature he'd spent possibly more time down there than any other student, except perhaps for Aihara of course. So many students submitted so easily, would give up any shred of dignity to say what I wanted them to say, to do what I wanted them to do just so I'd stop, and I would stop because they provided no amusement. Jinguuji had never been so easy a pushover and had so withstood far too much of my projected anger than was perhaps reasonable for him to take - but no, it wasn't reasonable at all, none of it was. I took out my anger and frustration of Takumu out on the others and Jinguuji had been a frequent target. I'd put him through so much and yet he'd never broken, not like nearly all of those others had. Such was testimony of his personal strength I supposed, and as Keigo would talk fondly of him I'd feel some shred of regret that we'd not met through different means and hadn't managed to form different interactions, but by that point it was far too late.

Still, that was all long past us now. Perhaps this could be a new start? Not that things had got off to a good start, though. I leant on the counter as the kettle boiled, feeling responsible for Jinguuji's sudden reaction. I heard footsteps from the corridor behind me and assumed them Keigo's, "... Is Jinguuji alright now?"

It wasn't Keigo. "He's quite better now, thanks. Not like you to worry about me, though."

I turned around, "Jinguuji--! I-- I--... I'm sorry, I... I must have startled you. I didn't mean to."

He leant against the tall cupboard, arms folded and expression surprisingly calm given what had just happened, through his breathing still seemed somewhat shaken. He _smiled_, though. I'd been right, he did seem far softer and more composed and confident through a manner other than stubborn obstinance... he seemed so calm and collected and I admired that immediately. I suppose I'd always admired him somewhat; even in the twisted depths I reached, personal strength is still personal strength.

"Hey, it's fine, it's fine. I didn't mean to either, after all! I mean, I come to your house, it'd be pretty stupid to think you wouldn't show up at some point, isn't it? Just didn't think I'd react so bad. Guess it was just shock or something. Like hypnosis, I guess? You just snap your fingers--" He did so, "-- and it all comes back. Damn, you had me trained. Just for a moment it all came flooding back, it's been so long I wasn't used to it I suppose. I mean, what's it been now, like..." He counted on his fingers. "... must be eleven years now, jeeeesus. We're old, Wada!"

He seemed so cheerful and easy-going, I couldn't understand it. I only stared at him and took his words in, how casually he'd talk about what had _happened_ in the past and then laugh in the same breath... I could only stare at him for a few moments.

"... Jinguuji, I... I'm sorry."

He seemed honestly taken aback, "Hrm?"

"For all that happened. Back then. Making you react like that just now. I... I never--..." I never what? I never meant for this to happen? I never meant for _that_ to happen? I'd never meant for it to go this far? I didn't know what I was sorry for, only that I was sorry and that Jinguuji's carefree manner wasn't making it any easier to bear. He only shook his head.

"No, it's fine, I'm fine. It's stuff that happened like twelve years ago, if we've not managed to deal with it somehow after all that time then that's pretty depressing. Gotta get on with your life, right? So, uh, yeah. Man. I never thought I'd have Wada apologising at me! Never thought I'd be visiting Wada's house, either." He paused, taking a deep breath. "... Never thought I'd be glad to see you, either. Must be time's done that, too. Funny thing, time."

It seemed strange, so very strange, but he was right. "... I'm glad to see you, too. I don't know why."

Another laugh, "Then we're in the same boat! The pair of weirdos we both are. Hey, is that coffee?"

"W-well, I was making tea, but if you'd prefer coffee..."

"Either's fine. Coffee's better, though."

"... You're so... energetic..."

He looked at me again with that curious expression, "You think?"

"... I just think, you're very different to the Jinguuji I knew. That's all."

"I _am_ very different to the Jinguuji you knew, that's probably why. I mean, come on, I was a little bastard back then, wasn't I? Not like you weren't one too, but you know what I mean. Still, nothing like things like work and university to get you to jack your ideas up, I guess." A shrug, "Along the line I guess I thought it might actually be better if I took things seriously. I mean, everyone around me was taking stuff seriously, I felt bad I wasn't, wondered if I'd feel better if I was more accomplished and I did, a bit. And now I run my own vetenarian's surgery so I guess I really did settle down, huh? Sometimes I just want to go back to Seirei so I can go in front of all the teachers and tell them I actually made something of my life, though I bet there's not many left there that we'd know, really. Oh hey, I'm glad you let Keigo keep his cats, it was really great to see those guys again too! If they ever get ill bring them to me, okay? I'll make sure they're treated the best. Let's get these drinks through though, I'm sure Keigo's getting all lonely on his own. You want me to carry the tray?"

"Oh, ah, um, no, it's alright, I can do it, I can do it."

"You sure?"

"Quite sure, but thank you."

We returned to the front room with the hot drinks, Jinguuji still smiling and I trying to cope with this strange surreal feeling I'd suddenly developed. I don't know if I could have been more confused at a situation had Takumu just walked in and made his introductions.

Keigo looked up as we returned, as I put the tray down on the coffee table. He looked at Jinguuji with open concern, "... You're alright now?"

That was replied by a smile, "Yeah, I'm good. I think you were right, I just hadn't expected to be taken by surprise by something totally normal, that's all. Fine now, though. Brought tea through for you, so now we can all sit down and catch up! Now we've been catching up for an afternoon, but I'm pretty curious about the high-reaching Wada, too!"

I wondered how much Keigo had told him of me and realised I didn't know the kind of things they'd talk of at all. Jinguuji sat down on the sofa next to Keigo, I sat on the singular chair next to the sofa closest to Keigo. I smiled and leant forward, "I'm quite curious about Jinguuji, too."

"Well, I told you about the surgery, is there anything else to know?"

I shrugged, "Maybe not, I suppose. I suppose I'm as surprised as anybody to see you made something of yourself though..."

"Yeah, back then we weren't really keeping our eye on the bigger picture, were we? But fine, I'll go first. So yeah, left Seirei, went to uni, flunked the first year, took a year out, pulled myself together, decided what I want to do, ploughed ahead and did it, pretty much. In the meantime, while Keigo was living with me, that was when my mother died, alcohol poisoning and too many painkillers and too much heartbreak and all nasty stuff like that. Tough times, 'specially for Yukari-- my sister, don't know if you ever knew 'bout her. Think she didn't get into Seirei until after we'd left anyway, so yeah. So that was pretty bad, but I'd passed my exams so like, at least I'd got that out of the way before getting all traumatised by that! Yukari took it pretty bad, but she's off in England studying on her teaching degree. Doing pretty well, that one! So then Keigo had to move as per his shiny career in showbiz and after far too much tiptoeing around I finally got back in contact with Nishimura and fixed things up with him. And we're together now, so... even with all the bad things, I can't say it's not turned out good, yeah? Oh, and I gave up smoking four years three months and seventeen days ago, too. So that's a potted history of Jinguuji Akihiro, how 'bout Wada Yoshikuni?"

He said so many important things so quickly I didn't really know how to react to them. Saying so many things just made it all the more amazing he seemed to be able to keep up such a consistent mood; I felt overwhelmed all of a sudden by a kind of guilt, though I didn't know how to deal with it. I spent most of my university years pining after Takumu over things that still occasionally haunt my dreams to this day, all the while Jinguuji had been going through something like that... and I seemed to remember Keigo telling me in the past that Jinguuji's father had died when he was very young, so how had _that_ affected him...? It made me wonder if I should make an effort to be closer to my own parents. I knew I wouldn't be who I am and where I am today without them, but I'd never felt as _close_ to them as I felt people were supposed to feel towards their parents. If there had ever been a word of comfort amidst the high-reaching aims then perhaps things might have been different, but...

We asked Jinguuji if he wanted to stay the night, but it seemed that he lived quite far afield and that he wanted to get home as soon as possible for his work in the morning, which was understandable. We told him he could come whenever he liked and he said that I should call him Akihiro, something I wondered if I'd ever be able to get used to. He smiled all the while and waved when he drove off and left Keigo and myself in a strange kind of silence, almost a kind of emptiness all of a sudden. He was so enthusiastic now that though he'd only been here for the evening, the house seemed quiet without him. I told Keigo I hoped he'd visit again soon, Keigo didn't respond. I could understand if part of him was reserved, though. Jinguuji had been Keigo's best friend for such a long time and I don't know how Keigo could even bear to talk to me after all the things I'd done back in Seirei. How could anybody ever forgive someone something like that? Perhaps they couldn't and he hadn't, even. We'd never had cause to bring the subject up before.

For a few days afterward Keigo walked around the house in a silence peculiar even to him, and I wanted to help him but didn't know how. I also felt guilty for my own thoughts; I wanted to be of some use to Keigo, but all I could think about was that he'd lived with Jinguuji while we'd all been at university and he'd never _told_ me that. I'd always assumed he went to university on his own, or at least _lived_ on his own. Still, best friends living together, that was natural enough, but still, it annoyed me and I didn't know why.

That and what Jinguuji had said when we'd returned to the kitchen after our coffee.

"... _I'm surprised you hadn't visited us before now! We've certainly been in the area a while..._"

"_Yes, well, it's hard to get time off - or at least, I'm pretty loathe to leave the practice without me for too long - and distance doesn't help that, but you're right, really. Having been such good friends with Keigo for so long I feel bad I haven't been able to see him, but between my job and his job and his looking after you it's always seemed like we were always too busy--_"

"_Wait a minute, 'looking after'...?_"

He'd stared at me for just a little too long, the look in his eyes disbelieving as if of _course_ Keigo should look after me, what other positions would we fall into other than that? He smiled and played it down, "_Well, you know what I mean. You know what he's like, it's just how he is, that's all...! Do you want me to help with the washing-up...?_"

After Jinguuji had said that, I couldn't help but watch Keigo in a different light for the days afterward. When he'd welcome me home, when he'd prepare dinner, when he'd do the washing and cleaning and all the things he didn't have to do but wanted to do because... because... because something. Because him. Because Keigo. Because _that was what he did_. But, was that what I was? Saying it like that, that Keigo was looking after me, well... that made me sound like someone who needed looking after in the first place, some kind of liability or one of a precious, precarious nature.

_Was_ it like that?

I didn't know that either and that, too, annoyed me.


	20. After Everything

~20~

After Everything, You're Still So Innocent

Every time you sleep on the sofa I want to push you off and tell you to go to bed, except that you look so comfortable that I don't want to disturb you.

I suppose I hadn't appreciated how hard you work before. Reams of writing around you, the laptop left abandoned with the screensaver running on the coffee table and you asleep once more. You. Me. The moon. The moonlight. All of those ingredients of the secret combination I always took a small solace in, that peaceful silence and the suspended nature of the passing moment. When I watch you and you're asleep there's nothing confusing or confused or strange or secret, just me watching you sleep and admiring you during that.

You _are_ attractive, as much as you seem unaware of that. Not the stunning beauty Takumu had or the confident charm Moritaka held, but something very sincere and genuine. When you wear your glasses, looking all studious as you work out the latest part of your latest book. The way you shave meticulously to keep that vague stubble, spending more time on that than other men would on shaving absolutely. The sturdy way you filled out, lean but muscular, solid and strong. You seem like you could have some strength you choose not to use; I look in the mirror and just see myself as weak, I suppose. No power in these muscles, that's why I'd had to rule through fear and the harsh word used in the worst context. And maybe that was strength but a terrible kind and I never want to go back to that. But you, you're attractive. I acknowledge that about you. I look at you and I think, '_he's an attractive man_'.

And I don't do anything about it. I don't see it as my _place_ to do anything about it. We've lived together for almost a year now and after all that happened in Seirei and after that, I should have thought that we... maybe, that you and I--... that is...

It's been months since your last advance. Maybe this time if you did, I wouldn't push you away. You know how I am, you know how I can't help it when I react like that...! Yet I watch you sleep and I'm sick of that. I don't want to be the one who has to be looked after, like Jinguuji said. I feel jealous when you talk of him fondly, moreso because I know why. Because Jinguuji is attractive in his own way, and also attractive in the way that happiness breeds. We see him infrequently. We've not seen Nishimura (with his punishing schedule) but we hear a lot about him and he seems far more well-adjusted than the flighty egotist we knew in school. Or perhaps Jinguuji just sees him differently than the rest of us, which wouldn't surprise me. He's entirely justified to, after all.

I look at you sleeping and wonder what we're waiting for. What _I'm_ waiting for. Why I won't acknowledge you. Why _I'm_ still keeping you at this distance. Is it Takumu? Is it still because of him? If it is, I can't think why. It's been so long and long enough to be practically pointless, now. It seems as if the only reason things haven't happened is because they _haven't_, because we've both been too self-absorbed to look outside each other. Or something. Maybe. Perhaps.

Or maybe I'm misinterpreting. Maybe such a move would be unwelcome. Perhaps you're with Miss Assistant, though you told me repeatedly that you're not. And I wouldn't believe you. And I was surprised by the force of my jealousy. Jealousy over something you deny, even. Even your denial, I can't seem to believe; surely you would, though? Why wouldn't you? Is it me? If me, then why? I don't understand and I'm fed up of not understanding. I'm too old not to understand. Some people never understand, but that seems unfair. When we were children, didn't it seem that adults knew everything? What a wonderful illusion they managed to present. When I was younger, I wanted to know everything. The tiny version of myself viewing myself in my late years, knowing _literally everything_. And so I leapt upon books and sources of knowledge in the hopes of absorbing, and I learnt a lot, but it's still only a tiny fraction of all of the knowledge that there ever was and ever will be. All this knowledge and I still never understood Takumu. All of this and I still don't understand you, Keigo. Or myself. Myself! The person whose body I've inhabited all of my life. If not now, then when? If ever?

Perhaps never. And in the face of that we just seem stupid. Wasn't it lucky enough that we were born in the same year, were at the same school? Our lives could so easily have not coincided and we might never have met. And all the same, there might be wonderful people around in school now or in a hundred years we might never know, but we know each other, so isn't that enough? I always considered myself lucky to know Takumu, at first. Then I wished I'd never known him, going back and forth on that statement in my mind depending on my mood. If I hadn't known him I wouldn't have known the sadness but I wouldn't have known the happiness, either. I wouldn't have had the pain but I wouldn't have had the experience of that pain, either. And sometimes the pain seemed so much that the experience of it could never have been a good thing, but would I rather have been innocent of that? Sometimes, yes. Such is the transient nature of the human thought process, after all.

We can't have that warmth, Keigo. We can't have what I had, but I wonder now if I even want that. I spent too long looking for a replacement for Takumu to even entertain that other people could be wonderful in their own individual ways, only discounting them for all the parts in which _they weren't Takumu_. And I liked you and still do, but you're not Takumu and never will be and surely that's good thing rather than bad? Takumu triggered an obsession the likes of which I've not felt since, but on the other hand, you're kind and gentle and caring. And I don't need looking after, so we should be equal. And part of me remains nervous, but if even Jinguuji can be strong then can't I be too? Can I be strong without opportunity to prove it? It all seems silly, now. We're wasting time. And I waste time watching you sleep, but the moment feels so tranquil it's almost like time isn't passing, just for now. But of course it is, and so _much_ time has passed. And I should make a move and I never have done but if I don't then I never will, and wouldn't that be worse?

Haltingly, I reach forth to shake your shoulder. I do so gently, you moan in your sleep and pull the sheet up around you. Your movement steels my resolve and I shake your shoulder with a firmer touch, this seeming to stir you somewhat.

"... Nnnn...?"

"... Keigo."

"... nnhnn..."

"Keigo, wake up."

"... 'Kuni...?"

I shiver without meaning to. No, he doesn't know, he could never realise such a thing in a sleep-addled state and I wouldn't want to tell him unless it became an issue, but I wish he wouldn't say such things even by accident.

"... You fell asleep on the sofa again."

"... Oh..."

"Come to bed with me, Keigo."

_That_ caused his eyes to snap open. He stared at me in the moonlight, that old memory still an occasional flash in my mind.

"... Yoshi... kuni...?"

"I want you in my bed. So, come to bed."

He didn't seem to know how to react to this, and I didn't particularly blame him. He looked away from me, "... Are you having trouble sleeping? Maybe if you had a hot drink, or listened to some classical music..."

"It's not something like that, Keigo. If nothing else, I don't think sleeping against the sofa like that is good for your back, is it?"

"... I'm sorry. I've made you worry about me... I'll go back to my own bed."

"That's not what I said, Keigo."

He looked back towards me, recognising the tone. _I_ recognised that tone. My eyes widened just slightly in surprise, one which mirrored his in front of me. The sharp diction of one who commands, the one who demands no failure. The stark demand, the sweet pain, the elongated torment. When I asked too many unreasonable things of you, of them, of us all.

"... I--... Keigo. Just... just come to bed. It's... it's enough, now."

I think that line previous made him nervous. I don't blame him. A flicker of confusion on his brow, "... Enough... now?"

I moved to kneel next to the sofa, reducing the distance between us. "You've done enough. I don't--... I don't need a servant, Keigo. Perhaps back then, I enjoyed the presence of someone who did everything I asked. And... and you _did_ everything I asked and to this day I don't understand how you were able to do such a thing. I asked too much, _so_ much, so many terrible things... and with an impassive expression, you'd obey. I--... I don't need to be looked after anymore, Keigo."

"... Yoshikuni..."

"... I'd _like_ to be looked after. But only if we close this gap between us."

"I..."

Another silence. I put my hand to his shoulder, each finger pressing down gently.

"Doesn't a large bed get cold at night...?"

"... I don't need this blanket, you can have--"

"I have enough blankets. Keigo, would it--... would it be easier if it was a command? If it was something I told you to do? You've done far worse without question, in the past."

"... In the past."

"Ah--?"

He was turned away from me again, his voice muffled somewhat by the proximity of his face to the back cushions. I kept my hand on his shoulder but I didn't try to move him back, only stared at his shrouded back in the moonlight and listened to his halting words.

"... Wada-... senpai."

"... What did I tell you about calling me 'Yoshikuni', Kei--"

"Senpai. This--... this is a thought I've carried since my mind knew you as my senpai. So please, let me call you that, just this once."

"... Go on...?"

"... Wada-senpai. Is it--... is it a strength, to give somebody everything...? Or is it a weakness to rely on them too much...?"

I withdrew my hand somewhat; I didn't have an answer to this. Were the two things mutually exclusive? I wanted to give Takumu everything, but he wouldn't accept it. Or, I couldn't accept the 'everything' that he was... perhaps that would be more truthful to say, so much as I didn't like to admit it at the time. We had to accept everything but he had to change because I couldn't accept him as he was and so too did that reflect back upon me, also. And I relied on him, so much and so greatly, so awfully and so wonderfully. Was it a strength or a weakness? I gave Takumu all I could because I felt that I could trust him with it, because I wanted to believe in his strength, because I wanted him to support me. Because, in my eyes, I was weak and he was strong. It would have been something more admirable to be the support yourself, would it not? Being able to support somebody in that fashion, as imbalanced as such a thing might seem. Takumu didn't have that strength, or didn't _want_ to have that strength. Even a question now from Keigo would lead back to a train of thought about Takumu. My hand pressed against his back, looking slight in comparison. I felt his movement of breathing but he didn't move beyond that or say anything more before I did.

"... I... wonder. Maybe there's a strength in being able to trust somebody so. A kind of optimism, a determination. Isn't that strength?... Or maybe it isn't, is it? Maybe it's... more of a blind faith. Maybe there's nothing strong or weak about it. Maybe it just can't be helped."

"... And... relying on somebody...?"

"... That... could be weakness. Or trust. I... I made those in Seirei rely on me because I wanted to see them weak and myself as strong. I wanted to rely on Takumu because if I couldn't trust him then I couldn't trust anybody, but... all the same, he was too weak to support me. And I was too weak to support myself, so I thought I needed him. If anything is 'too much' then that implies an excess so I suppose that could be a weakness... but if you rely on somebody and that person can support you, then... perhaps that's a strength in itself. Some kind of unity, like jigsaw pieces."

"... Are we strong?"

"... I don't know. Maybe stronger than we were. ... Do you feel strong?"

Keigo's voice was so quiet I could barely hear him but for the silence of the room.

"... Never."

This, coming from a figure such as Keigo, seemed wholly strange. I couldn't hide my confusion, not that he was looking to see it. I pressed both hands against his back, leaning over to press my head against his shoulder. Warmth and comfort and the knowledge of strength that had kept me from insanity, or at least stood aside me during. You were _there_, Katsuragi. You could have left so many times, you could have fallen and I could have broken you but you're still here and _we're_ still here and all of this, somehow despite everything. I simply won't believe that you're not strong because to me, you're the strongest.

"... Keigo, that's--!" My voice was soft now, "... I won't let you say something like that, because I refuse to believe it. I remember when you were a flustered first-year student, willing to follow me into the Student Council, willing to support me. Only five students of each year make the Council and despite your hesitation, you made the cut, Keigo. You had the strength to have the conviction that you'd support me and you pursued this to the very most every time. The others questioned me and resented me but you always stood firm, and I look back on those times and know that we were wrong, but despite being wrong, we stood firm. I felt I'd lost everything, and you were still there beside me."

I closed my eyes and let the room fall into silence for a few minutes.

"You stood up for me. You stood up for Jinguuji. You supported him and you supported me. Somebody nobody else would have patience for-- two people no others would have patience for, even. And you had patience enough for the both of them. You told Takumu that you hated him because you disagreed with how he'd treated me and with what he caused me to be. I--... when we made love on the school roof, I felt that I could trust you more than anybody. More than Takumu, _much_ more than Takumu. Because you were strong and were there for me and despite all of my many, awful failings, you'd vowed to support me. And perhaps that's the blind faith rather than the strength, but... when you'd call me 'senpai' and admired me from the bottom of your heart, you never wavered. I did terrible things and never deserved to have somebody such as yourself around for me, but I did and I do and I wouldn't change that for the world. Just because I don't deserve doesn't mean I don't desire... and I loved Takumu, but that was a long time ago. So long ago it shouldn't even matter. But you're still with me, because you said you'd always support me. And you have. And you do. And I... I admire you for that, Keigo."

"... That's only a strength you've painted me with, senpai."

"... Then... what do you feel it is, Keigo? To be strong?"

His voice was still so quiet I thought my heart might break just to hear it.

"I thought that if I stayed by your side, I could be strong like I saw you as. Even now, still, you're... I never rid myself of that image of you, of the 'wonderful senpai'. When we stood outside the Student Council building together and you spoke of your plans to reform the Council to your ideals. The high grades you always achieved. Many might have questioned your ethics when you ran the Student Council, but somewhere beyond morals and ethics was the strength of _wanting_. And you wanted, senpai. You wanted, you took. You wanted and you took without hesitation. If you wished something of somebody, you would speak your feelings to them. You never tried to conceal what was in your heart. Even with Kirihara, even though he rejected you, he only rejected you because you were honest with him, because you told him what you wanted and he couldn't give it to you."

I heard the light sound of rain outside, the steady tranquil rush somewhere outside the patio windows.

"I watched you, senpai. You took and you conquered, you broke those weaker than you because you were strong and had the power to break them. And perhaps that was wrong, but if it was wrong then you were wrong and if you were wrong then I was wrong because I only ever tried to understand you. When I couldn't understand you I blindly followed anyway, trusting you to have the direction of what you really _wanted_. Because you had the courage to want things and you had the courage to take what you wanted and I didn't understand that, before I saw you."

"... What did you want, Keigo...?"

"I wonder if Kirihara hurt me alongside you, senpai. I hated him but thanked him that day and I meant - and mean - that with the greatest depth of sincerity I possess. He told me to look after you, but I didn't need his word to follow your bidding. I would continue to support you as I ever had, but... at the time, I wanted you, Yoshikuni. I wanted you to notice me and I wanted to become 'wonderful', like I saw you as being. I didn't know how but I thought I could learn. And yet I never had the strength to express that. I never had the strength to pursue you and even if I had, so suddenly did Kirihara come into the picture that I didn't know what to do other than wait for you, do what you wanted, try and support you in the ways that he couldn't or didn't. And maybe this patience worked to my advantage, because then I was able to pursue you in the only way that I knew how, but I would never have been able to do that had it not been for Kirihara essentially giving you to me in the first place. If I hadn't done anything at all, nothing would have happened. Even if I'd made the conscious effort, I would not have known how and still nothing would have happened. As much as you seemed to admire Kirihara, so too did I admire you and yet you were able to _tell_ him that, speak those words that changed his mind. And once you changed his mind, I knew I couldn't change yours. I could only remain in your presence and hope I'd have a place there."

"And you did, Keigo. You still do."

He raised his voice quite suddenly, then turning to look at me. "_But_--! That's, that's not the kind of thing I can control! Such a thing might be fate or destiny, but a fate can take many paths and if you don't set yourself on purpose then you can never achieve a goal! You fell to me by accident, because I was willing to catch you. It might so easily have been different. You might have been happy with Kirihara. You might have rejected my support. I might have failed you. You could have broken me. All of these fragments, unrelated to each other but each taking effect until the situation is irrevocably changed--! None of these things was because I decided _I shall do this_ or _this will happen_, only because I didn't know what to do and I hoped that my tiny effort might lead to some desirable outcome...! And somehow... somehow, in a way, it did. And such a thing can't be changed, but it also can't be changed that none of this was because I was in any way strong, Yoshikuni. I didn't have the strength to impress you so I could only follow behind you, I was only able to have you when it was obvious that nobody else wanted you any longer. When you'd hurt too much and alienated them too far, when they hated and resented you, when they were scared of you and you only encouraged this... I was able to be with you only because nobody else wanted to. Because you were so unpredictable, so volatile, so merciless in your fury and sadistic in your pleasure... even I couldn't avoid that, but there was a sadistic pleasure of my own in knowing that if I could survive this then I could survive anything and if I stayed by your side even through that, _then_ you might notice."

The angry passion fell out of his expression, he fell back against the sofa and stared up at me with a sidewards expression.

"... It took so long to send you the message, that night. I wanted to stand with you on the school roof against the setting sun, but I only sat there and stared at my phone. I was on the roof, I had the balloons, I didn't have the courage even then, after everything, to be straightforward about what I wanted."

I stared, but my eyes were empty. I wasn't really looking at Keigo any longer.

_when it was obvious that nobody else wanted you any longer_

_when they hated and resented you_

_when they were scared of you_

_because nobody else wanted to_

_so merciless_

_sadistic_

that was

how I was

back then

"... You're... cruel, Keigo."

He took my hand.

"So were you, Yoshikuni."

We stared at each other as the rain eased off and I hurt, my mind hurt and my heart hurt and every self-hating thought I'd ever had seemed to resurface a decade too late. And in Keigo's eyes there was an awful, terrible, open kind of truth and I believed him. I believed that of him. That if there hadn't been Keigo then there wouldn't have been anybody, because I didn't deserve anybody and I'd made it that way by my own hands. Because I couldn't have Takumu I hadn't wanted anybody else, but my childish self hadn't realised the reality of the loneliness in that desire. Was it selfish to wish for somebody to appease the loneliness? Perhaps. Is there any desire that isn't selfish? I wondered. Keigo had always seemed the most unselfish person I knew, even if his actions had been motivated through desire. He'd never seemed to want, and yet... and yet it seemed that he may have done after all. He may have wanted and simply been incapable of expressing this. I didn't blame him, I hadn't _wanted_ before Takumu and even then it was difficult... some people took what they wanted so easily but for me it was hard and for him, impossible. Maybe even Katsuragi had selfish desires.

"... We're all weak."

I looked at him with slight surprise, having found myself lost in thought.

"Wha- what...?"

"We're all weak, I think. Even my wonderful senpai has his weaknesses. You call me strong because I supported Akihiro, supported you... but what kind of person is it who can be strong for others but not himself? Isn't that where I'm weak?"

He closed his eyes, his voice quiet again.

"... It's... easier for me."

"... Keigo?"

"... It's easier to tend to the needs of others than my own. If it's just like that, then I can ignore whatever desire screams inside me. Any desire that fell to my body only ever reached a dead end, but if I could support you then I could pretend that I was accomplishing something."

He bit his lip.

"... I don't want to talk anymore."

I didn't know what he meant. I wanted to hear the entire contents of his heart if it would help me understand, I wanted to see inside his mind and feel his thoughts if it would give me any more knowledge of this other person in front of me. Keigo, who was so blunt. Takumu, who was never so straightforward. Myself, who desired feeling from the latter and didn't know what to do when given from the former. Such confessions I would have craved from Takumu but with Keigo, I could only stare at him. I couldn't take any of it in, only that he had fallen silent and then I realised what he had said, that he wasn't looking at me and he wasn't speaking to me because he didn't want to. Because he didn't _want_ to. Because he'd had the strength to say what he was feeling, what he had felt then and what he was feeling now. I didn't know how I felt, and so could only admire him.

"... Keigo?"

His eyes flicked towards me but he didn't say anything. I wondered if this was the closest we'd ever get to an argument.

"... What do you want?"

He didn't say anything but he didn't look away, either.

"... What do you want, Keigo?"

He looked up to the ceiling, his tone and expression quite blank.

"I always wanted you to be happy."

"I didn't ask that."

"... That's what I want."

"I asked what _you_ want, Keigo. What do you want for _yourself_? Wanting me to be happy, that's... that's a desire you've painted me with, isn't it? Don't _you_ want to be happy? Isn't there any kind of wish that you specifically want for yourself, or... or has it only ever been me...?"

He didn't disagree but he didn't agree, either. He never told me what he wanted, not on that night at least. He did, however, eventually come to bed.


	21. Graduation

~21~

Graduation

What is it that you want, Keigo?

What would you like?

Let me do it.

Let me do it all.

Not like before.

Not like then.

I was selfish, then.

I'm selfish now, too. I'm selfish, but I recognise you as something separate, a being with needs and wants of his own (even if he doesn't realise them himself).

I'll do everything you want, just to see what kinds of things you like. I never learnt those things, not back then and not now, either. This is a little like it was before, isn't it? You seem nervous, just a bit. I'm concentrating too much to be nervous. This isn't about me. Like this, it was never about me. I didn't break you back then and I don't intend to now, so much the opposite... and under the bedside lamp I see your skin still lightly scarred in certain places. You turn the light off with an upturned hand. I don't mind.

If I have to cover every inch and centimetre of your body, I'll find somewhere that responds. Maybe you dreamt of this, in the past? The you that couldn't communicate your desires. What _were_ those desires? Tell me, Keigo. Tell me now. You can't? Ah, well then. I can't do anything if you don't tell me what you want, surely?

_There_.

Alright. 'There' is fine. _That_ place. _This_ place. Anywhere my fingers touch, the warmth seeping through even my fingertips.

The last time we were like this was on the roof, wasn't it? And even then, it wasn't like this. I wasn't in the mood to be so conscientious. So when was it last like this? So long ago I can't even remember, and even then, it was different. You hold your hands above your head, gripping the headboard with a strength that varies. Before this, you'd be tied up, wouldn't you? I could tie you up if I wished, but I don't wish, so I won't.

You looked so pretty in a blindfold, though.

You really let me do anything back then, didn't you. It all returns as I deliberate over your body, remember what I put it through.

No, I don't deserve you. I don't deserve you at all.

And yet I have you. So I won't let you go. One would be a fool to throw away something so useful, and yet... is that all you are, Keigo? 'Useful'? Scissors are 'useful'. A desk fan is 'useful'. Are you merely a functional thing, some form of robot accessory?

Kata- kata- kata- kata-

Robots don't gasp when I touch them here though, do they?

Kata- kata

You can't switch off so easily.

Kata kata-- kataa-- kata--

This meaningless human ritual would mean nothing to a metal creation. Something formed through biological necessity, a required process. Something we ignore. Perhaps it's as meaningless as that to a robot, but your sigh makes it worthwhile. A full-body shudder, your toes pressed against the bedsheets, a sign of pleasure that you didn't need words to communicate. See, you're not entirely incapable, are you...? I understand you, Katsuragi. Like this. Here, like this, I understand you. The map of a human body is territory for my touch and there's nothing so complicated here.

With Takumu I felt that I could touch eternity, but that's long since lost now. Eternity is a childish wish, if nothing else; who would truly yearn for such a thing? Perhaps, rather than that, we should desire '_until the end_'. A more realistic goal, but still one of sacrifice.

We could have done

a _lot_

worse.

I could have done a lot worse.

(I'm not so sure about you.)

Those things you admired about me, Keigo. All the things I hated about myself. All the things that others hated me for. The only reason you didn't hate me was because you wanted me and you knew that if you hated me alongside the others then you wouldn't be able to want me. And so you endured and you morphed into something that could accept me, some changed being that could see no wrong if I performed it. Such a thing does not however make us right, it only makes us both wrong. But we revel in that wrongness and who is there to judge us?

It's gradual.

I was helpless for Takumu and so too now are you helpless for me. I feel impassive as I watch but you're not looking, your eyes are sightless and your cries untethered. Let go, Keigo. There's nobody to hear us anymore. I don't want you to hurt, not like back then. Your skin is smooth and in creases moist, I run a finger down your arm and smile at the lack of friction.

Is this enough for you, or does it feel like there could be more?

Is this that frustrating kind of pleasure, the one that demands?

That is such as I was. And could likely still be, if I were to allow myself. Now is, however, not the time.

here

I'll do what you want me to do.

What do you want me to do?

Tell me.

It doesn't matter what I want. What will make me happy is if I can do what _you_ want.

Isn't that a balance?

I learn new things about you.

Here, tonight, while it rains outside and the sun rises, I'll love you gently.

Perhaps will come a time when we're so far moved we'll fuck like beasts and enjoy it for the animals we are.

We're free to do that, Keigo.

Seirei doesn't bind us any longer. The rules of the Student Council, the expectations of the students, those are matters for other people now.

Now

_Now_

Now, there's only the two of us here. Nobody else knows of it, because it's none of their business. They don't care. Why should they?

Isn't this happiness?

Isn't this what you always wanted?

Isn't this what you couldn't tell me you wanted?

You can't tell me anything now, but I don't mind.

Your harsh breath is almost as a snarl in your throat.

Yes.

Harder, Katsuragi.

Give it up. Give yourself. Give it all, give it more, give it now. To me. To have. Because. Because you decided long ago that you were mine

and who am I to argue?

I have you because you gave yourself to me.

I didn't have to fight for you. You fought on my behalf.

You're strong, Keigo. Even if you won't believe it.

Perhaps by this logic, I too am strong. Maybe I'm strong in ways I don't realise

but I don't realise them

and so, to me, they don't exist.

Maybe this is why people need each other.

(_It's because the two of us are fragile and imperfect that we'll stay holding hands forever_)

Because we always presume the worst of ourselves. Because people like us could devolve into evil with nobody to call them pathetic. Because as well as our faults we have good points, but one of those faults is that we're blind to them. Because we can't believe that broken people like us could have any good points at all

and maybe we're all broken

in different ways

so maybe we can fix each other somehow, too

I see you as strong and you see me as strong and neither of us believe that of ourselves. So, together, in this unified whole we've created by ourselves, somehow, we're both strong.

Isn't this a balance?

I think that I might love you.

It's nothing so overtaking or dangerous as was with Takumu.

Only a fact.

A statement.

A truth.

A strength.

I'm inside you and you're wrapped around me and you seem so much more desperate than I am. Because that's what this is for you, the process of losing yourself to me, giving yourself to me to find. And for me, this is this, for me to find you. And to understand what we are. Which is this. Just this. As we were then and we are now, simply two humans who _want_. And not a part of me doubts that I love you because if I were to think on it then I might doubt and I don't want to doubt, I just want to believe. And I don't believe so wholeheartedly without reservation as I once did but I do a little, and that's something.

We're free, Keigo.

We're free to do whatever we want. Because you have your dream and I have you, and you're not Takumu and maybe that doesn't matter anymore. Maybe it's better this way. What would things have been like with him, do you think? I might have lost myself. I don't think he would have bothered finding me.

All his reality is now is a shining dream. A shining dream of a fairytale prince, and such things don't exist. And we _are_ fragile and we _are_ imperfect, but we're real, and so we're unbreakable and perfect but I still won't let go of your hand.

If we stopped now, we would end happily.

Keigo

... What do you _want_...?


	22. Through Good Times And Bad

~22~

Through Good Times And Bad

"_... and now, the live heat of Tokyo Model Revolution! I'm your host, Lala-len! And here's my co-host, Suzukawa Yoshio!_"

The squeals and screams of the live audience in the background.

"_Thank you, Lala! Now, we're all very excited today since, as you know, we're down to the last five contestants! Today we're going to do the unthinkable; the results of tonight's vote will get rid of - and this is unheard of - three of our hopeful contestants!_"

"_Kyaa~! But that means we'll only be left with two!_"

"_And that's where we'll pick up next week for our live Grand Finale of Tokyo Model Revolution! But before you can have a final you have to have finalists, and that's where we are tonight. It's been a long series, but we're almost at the end, and the end will decide who you, the people of Japan, have voted the top model of the hundred contestants we've had! Since the start of the run, we've narrowed it down from one hundred down to the five we have today. Isn't that amazing?_"

"_I couldn't believe it myself! I remember when we started, and every contestant seemed like a winner to me! Perhaps that means I don't know as much as I thought about the world of modelling..._"

"_It's the kind of world that only accepts the best, Lala! Every week it gets more and more impossible, doesn't it? So the winner will definitely be something amazing! As a reminder, let's look through our past contestants..._"

This is how they fill their time. The actual contest itself only takes up the last half of any programme, but the general public is so stupid it won't remember what happened unless told repeatedly.

They all look the same, to me. The girls are too thin and weathered, the boys too stilted and pretty. Such a superficial beauty isn't beauty at all, is it? Perhaps there is a beauty in things that are real, but these models, they're not real people with lives as we have them and they're too far away to be any realistic kind of goal. This doesn't stop many youngsters wishing to become models and indeed, some of them make it. Some of them end up on shows like Tokyo Model Revolution. I feel sorry for them. I watch every week, but I feel sorry for them. There's no substance of life in that kind of victory, or at least none that _I_ can see. Many would disagree with me.

"... _And now we're down to the last five! Here's a quick reminder before we get started. First! Noritake Suzuna! Isn't she beautiful?_"

Not particularly.

"_Second, Asakawa Hiroshi! All boys should aspire to be as beautiful as he is!_"

If all boys looked the same, it'd be boring.

"_Third, Mizure! That sultry stare would make any man melt!_"

If she didn't look the same as every other model they'd pushed from the catwalk.

"_Fourth, Sonoda Takeo! That rough charm is really something!_"

Put Jinguuji on the catwalk. That'd be fun to see.

"_Fifth but by no means last, Kiyoko Macintosh! Even if she doesn't win, she'll go far!_"

Not in any line of work that would interest me.

"_And it's between these five that the voting comes down to! Phonelines will open at the end of the show. Now, to our panel of judges! We may think we know the best for these young starlets and maybe everybody at home has a favourite that they're rooting for, but none of these models would be anything if it wasn't for the advice of these four! Representing the best the business has to offer, we'll really know what's what when we've heard what they have to say!_"

The shot goes to the four judges and my eyes to one in particular. The other three don't interest me - the show in general doesn't interest me - but Takumu is on the panel and so every week, I tune in to see him.

There's no point in it. I look at him and see him as he is now, remember how he was then and feel very little for it. Keigo, if he catches me, always switches the television off and tells me that he doesn't think that this is a good idea, but I don't care either way. If I watch or if I don't watch, what difference does it make? We've come far since we knew each other, Takumu. I watch you with hawkish interest, but this doesn't last. Maybe I think of you, but to no effect. We are simply two different people now, I somebody who watches television and you, somebody who appears on it.

You look different, but so would I to your eyes. Older. There's something more refined about those looks that once seemed boyish in their charm. I was obsessed with you, wasn't I? Every thought centred around your beauty. I centred around your beauty. There was nothing in the world more beautiful than you and now I look at you and I wonder about that. Is that still true? Do you beat every sunset, every landscape, every precious feeling? Beauty fades. You're still beautiful, I suppose. You're still beautiful, but my point of view has changed. My point of view was already so swayed by knowledge of you, but that's long since gone and just looking at you doesn't mean anything. _You_ don't mean anything. Your existence as a person on this planet holds no interaction with mine. As separate beings, we have ceased to collide with one another. There are billions of people on this planet, Takumu, and you are but one of them. So too of course am I, though. What meaning is there in this? None in particular. Many lives happen to collide with each other as we go on living, many more bear no contact. We have fallen into the latter, have we not? And that doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything at all.

Isn't there part of me in a past life that would have despaired at this being my future? A future that doesn't contain Takumu, not even in the slightest. Yes, yes there is. The part of me that believed in him and believed in what he said, the part that wanted to know we'd be together forever. Childish wishes.

"... _I think that they're all of a high standard now, so of course it'll be difficult to make a decision... still, I have my own feelings on who should win this, though I'm going to keep secret about that! I have feelings on who should win, and I'm not sure they'll be who does win, in the end. But, time will tell there, won't it?_"

"_That was Kirihara Takumu there, still the biggest model the country has produced in decades! Between a career in Japan and a career in America, he still manages to fit in acting work between all of that! He must be very energetic, don't you think?_"

"_He really must be! But as long as he can keep it up, that's for the best! And I'm sure I don't need to remind any of you, Takumu's new movie hits the cinemas this Friday. Look out for that!_"

I made a policy of never watching any of his movies. Not least because not one of them seemed to rise above romantic sob-stories or pathetic love-comedies; I didn't watch many movies in the first place and it seemed like, Takumu aside, those were the kinds that I would only consider my life wasted to watch.

There was still a sliver of jealousy there, of course. Those actresses, those who'd share the screen with him. Even as a fictional story on-screen, such a thing seemed sickening. Most of his roles seemed to involve him as the kind and gentle hero, the kind of man who'd rescue the needy woman and guide them to love and happy endings. And I knew him, at least back then. I knew that he could be as cruel as any of us, or at least--... at least, back then, he had been. We'd all been cruel, I think. Even for me idolising him, this didn't reduce his actions any. Nor did it reduce my own and neither of us could hope for any kind of redemption on our behaviour, only the vague sense of being forgiven that the mists of time reduced us to. There were things that we did, but they might as well be dreams or illusions for all they matter now. Perhaps they shaped us, but they're long in the unchangeable past. And I remember how you were, but I remember how I was too, and I don't desire it.

Part of me does wonder, though. If we were together now, what would things have been like? Would you have stayed in Japan with me, would I have gone to America with you? I suppose in the end, our lifestyles were too incompatible (much as we were as people, too). Neither of us would have given up our dreams and nor should we, but we wouldn't have helped each other to them either. Perhaps if I met you now you'd realise this, or maybe you wouldn't.

Would we have lain beneath the stars on beaches, drinking cocktails as the drifting tide lapped against our bodies? Your life of glamour and parties and other such things, desirable to some but not to me. Even so, there would have still been some sense of accomplishment, all of those gatherings and the social events where we would have been there and in front of everybody else, I could have known you mine. We couldn't have told anybody, but that wouldn't have been important as long as _we_ knew.

And I wonder if you're still with Moritaka.

Nothing more than that. I just wonder, that's all.

Maybe the two of you fell apart, as some relationships do. Perhaps you're stronger than ever. Maybe you've managed to put the past behind you, those meaningless things that meant little in the end. Such things didn't help you achieve anything and so you forgot them, as you're perfectly entitled to do so. And I should have done but didn't, because I'm wrong, somehow. I just... couldn't. I couldn't let go of something I'd held so dearly, even if it was destroying me to cling to it. Easier to cling to the ghost of past affection than seek it out anew, isn't it...? Starting something new would be exhausting, after everything we went through. So I let your ghost comfort me. You haunt me, Takumu.

You haunted me back then. Now, I wonder.

But I'm still watching you on television. Part of me feels accomplished for not seeing your movies, but that's something of a hollow victory when I lap up every other exposure the media gives you. When we were at school, I had a collection of your magazine pages. I might still have them somewhere. No, I _know_ I still have them, somewhere. Boxed in the attic perhaps, but still somewhere. Part of me thought about burning them, but didn't.

I hear movement in the hall and then someone who isn't Keigo walks in and sits down next to me on the sofa; it's Jinguuji, and I look at him in surprise. He takes the remote control and looks at the television and I feel exhausted just looking at him.

"What's on? It's almost time for the drama I've been following to come on, mind if I borrow this? Not watching anything big, are you? Let's see, what's this... _Tokyo Model Revolution_!? Ahahaha, I didn't think scary Wada was the type to watch this kind of thing! Well, I guess anyone's going to like watching nubile youngsters strut their stuff but we're getting too old for that! It gets creepy after a while! Oh hey, isn't that whassisface who was on the Council too? Oh god, what was his name? Jesus, I probably couldn't remember everybody if you made me."

"... On the Student Council there was Keigo and myself alongside Kudou Tatsuya, Moritaka Kazuya and Kirihara Takumu."

Jinguuji clicked his fingers, "Kirihara! That was it. That stuck-up egotist, not that I can talk given who I ended up with. Man. He looks so different now! That's so weird. Then again, I guess people see Shin on things now and think that he looks different as to when he was at school, 'course he's going to look different, it's been like ten years now! So I suppose it's not _that_ weird. So do you still keep in touch with any of those guys?--"

Jinguuji turned to look at me as he asked this and I was about to answer him (though I wasn't quite sure how) when Keigo appeared at the door, carrying a bag of shopping through to the kitchen; he glanced over at us, presumably saw the television, dropped the shopping, ran through, grabbed the remote, turned off the television. Jinguuji stared at him, "Wada was watching that, what did you do that for?!"

Keigo ignored the question, "Yoshikuni... you know you shouldn't be watching that..."

I looked away, "... I know. I'm sorry."

Jinguuji looked between us, clearly confused. I didn't look at either of them straight, though I knew Keigo's expression of quiet irritation by heart. I heard him as he picked up the dropped shopping, as he went back through to the kitchen to put everything away properly. Jinguuji left it a few moments before the inevitable question came.

"... What happened there?"

I laughed humourlessly, "... You and Keigo were such firm friends, surely he told you of my dealings with Takumu?"

"... Now you mention it, he sometimes talked about you and him having problems... Keigo'd never say much about it all but it always seemed to bug him."

"I was in love with Takumu, for a while. For a long while, it feels like. We were together, we broke up. Broke up rather badly. Still, even putting it like that doesn't seem to encompass everything... and it's been so long and so much has happened, we're such different people with different lives and I still end up watching him on Tokyo Model Revolution. Isn't that pathetic, don't you think?"

I turned to Jinguuji with a smile, but he didn't return it. Instead his expression was quite serious, "... Sorry. I intruded on something private without thinking about it."

"You weren't to know. Just because I told Keigo doesn't mean that you were going to know; he was always good at keeping people's secrets."

"Shame he's just the same about his own, isn't it?"

I smiled and agreed before I really thought about it. Then I frowned.

"... He has secrets?"

A shrug. "Who knows? If he does, he's never told me them."

"... But you're his best friend?"

"And you're his lover, so between us you'd think we'd know. Well, that's always how he's been like, hasn't he? Guess it can't be helped. Can I have the remote control? I mean, if you want to keep watching Tokyo Model Revolution then that's fine but I don't think Keigo'd like that, hah. Want to watch my drama with me? Can't say you'll understand it if you haven't been watching it before but you're clever, I'm sure you'll pick up on it..."

I let him watch the drama and I let him keep talking, only half-paying attention to him. The rest of my attention was devoted to wondering about Keigo. Jinguuji seemed to pass the matter off so casually, as was his nature... and so too was being secretive Keigo's nature? I'd always took him for quiet but had never considered the possibility that he might have secrets. What kind of secrets would he have? I barely had any, none that I could think of. All the shameful things were things that Keigo knew, that Takumu knew, that the rest of the Student Council of our year knew. No other kind of secret could really compare to those past misdeeds and so I'd never bothered having them. If there was anything troubling me, I told Keigo because I could trust him. Because I could tell him, it was alright even if nobody else knew. Indeed, it was better that way. I don't think those at work would have wanted to know of my teenage conquests.

That night on the sofa seemed to be the closest I'd ever got to discovering Keigo's secrets. And then he'd stopped talking and I'd respected that and I still wondered about the things he said, sometimes. But I never asked him, because he never said, and I didn't want to pry.

Even though, as Jinguuji put it, we were 'lovers'. The term still seemed strange to me and it came as a distant kind of surprise both that Jinguuji knew of such things and that, clearly, Keigo had _told_ him. Were we lovers, now? I supposed so. We hadn't spoken of it formally but we lived together and slept together and each element seemed to fall into place eventually. Maybe we'd talk about it at some point or maybe we wouldn't, and if we didn't then it'd only be because we didn't need to. Because we had each other and that was enough, but it didn't stop me wondering on occasion anyway.


	23. Maybe There Are Secrets After All

~23~

Maybe There Are Secrets After All

Our branch in France was celebrating the retirement of its long-running manager, and so we all had a get-together for the occasion. This essentially meant, for those of us who had to attend, a week of paid leave to go to France and celebrate in the appropriate fashion. The retirement party itself was only on one day of the week, but a week gave enough time to make the journey and get some rest in between the plane flights.

It seemed strange to be celebrating the retirement of somebody so much older than me when I was at a far higher position in the company, but such is the way of things.

Keigo was used to me having to leave for work-related issues. Sometimes I'd have conferences that'd last the weekend, sometimes there'd be events like this that formally lasted a week. Sometimes I'd be gone for a day or a week but he didn't mind, because he knew that it was required for my work and he didn't question that. He had no need to.

Keigo didn't know this, but France was also where Aihara and Yoshizawa-san set up the first branches of their restaurant chain. Now successful in themselves they have branches across the world, but that was where they started from. Apparently both of them had European blood in them and it had always been Aihara's wish to be a chef; he'd achieved that quite spectacularly. Aihara was still with Kondou, who'd made the sacrifice to give up his life in Japan to move in with Aihara. It made sense; even since school the two of them had been so besotted with each other, practically childhood sweethearts. They'd had their difficulties but they'd got through those and to any outside observer, their relationship was, other than Kondou's poor grasp of the French language, practically perfect. Almost sickening, in a way. Still. Their relationship was their business and their business alone.

Keigo asks me how the trip to France went.

I show him photos, tell him anecdotes, give him souvenirs. These all please him. He smiles.

I don't tell him that I met with Aihara because it's none of his business. Because the matter with Aihara was always very separate to anything else. Because Aihara came to me of his own accord, because I trained him, because he was the one I trusted the Student Council with once we left. And I believe he took care of it admirably. I think it changed him. I think a lot of things have changed him.

He told me so many times in the past how much he hated me. I send him an email telling him that I'll be in France for a week; he asks when and where.

We meet up. We go to a restaurant. We talk of tiny things, of how I've been and how he's been, things of little interest and things of no consequence. He smiles and tells me that meeting up was a lot easier when I lived in England. It was, wasn't it? Still. With things as they are now, perhaps it's all for the best.

Aihara phones up Kondou and tells him that he's on a last-minute business meeting. It's not entirely untrue, his business caters for mine, but he doesn't mention my presence or anything about me. Of course not. I don't know how much Kondou might suspect (or not) but formally, the relations between Aihara and myself ended as we both left Seirei Gakuen. Perhaps there have been arguments or maybe there haven't, maybe Kondou asks him if he's seen me since or maybe he hasn't and if he hasn't he's a stupid, happy fool. I have the week booked at a high-class hotel but Aihara and myself go somewhere different since the questions of my colleagues as to why I'm taking men into my hotel room at night are not the kind one of my status wants to field.

The week alternates between dry business meetings and passionate trysts with Aihara. I don't know what it is about him; he's told me so many times that he hates me, he hates this, he hates it all and yet he still comes back for more, he can't help himself when he knows I'm going to be near. I can't help myself, either. It's not something I go out of my way to pursue but it's a perk of the job, one could say. Every moment spent in his company not fucking him into the nearest available mattress is a moment wasted, quite simply. And yet why? Why? What was it about this boy that always made me act so? Though, calling him a 'boy', he's only two years younger than myself and neither of us are young anymore. A two-year age difference seemed so much when we were in school, but even Takumu was a year younger than I was. The fresh-faced first-year students, of which Aihara Makoto had been one of. As had Kondou and Honma, of course. They'd seemed so innocent then, though it didn't take long for Aihara to shatter that illusion and yet, like Jinguuji, he stood out as one who had always been able to bear me, somehow. He'd wavered and buckled like a tree in a storm but he'd never broken, never yielded entirely. I tried my hardest but he too had a will that overpowered his submission to me.

As much as he'd tried to fight it.

His body is lithe and athletic, always shifting with a nervous energy. We exhaust ourselves through the night, the headboard rapping constant time against our actions. He's as energetic as he always was but he'll always obey my word because he got so used to it and never learnt how _not_ to. Such an obedient student, so loyal. Sometimes I wonder of our circumstance and wonder how we got here in the first place; I remember little of how we used to be.

I remember his presence in the Student Council Building, I remember him being a dedicated and conscientious student. I remember him helping with Student Council business and I remember getting used to him in a pleasant, off-handed sort of fashion. I remember seeing him with a wistful expression and asking him his thoughts, I remember him confiding in me and I remember exploiting that. He trusted me but I didn't see myself as the kind to be trusted and thought it only his own fault if he was going to trust his thoughts and feelings to someone such as myself. I told him I'd look after him and I did, I suppose, in a way. He was troubled over his feelings for Kondou, to start with. That he felt too much that Kondou wouldn't understand, that Kondou wouldn't accept him, thought he was wrong and unforgivable for his feelings... and after what I'd been through with Takumu the mere act of loving another human didn't seem horrible or sinful at all, but Aihara wouldn't believe this. Aihara also had an inexhaustible taste for being punished; he asked me to, and so I punished him. Frequently. Repeatedly. Mercilessly. He absorbed it all and relished it with religious fervour.

He was mine, but I was disinterested in owning anybody such. He gave me everything, but couldn't escape himself. He hated himself for his feelings for Kondou, and so came to me. He hated himself for betraying his feelings for Kondou by coming to me. I couldn't hurt him enough, in his opinion. I did my best.

That was, however, a decade or so ago. After that, Aihara had taken my place as the leader of the Student Council and I'd continued to mentor him as to how I thought the Council should operate. Many things happened then but I was at university by that point, a distant observer to the chaos I'd used to orchestrate personally. Kondou found out about Aihara and myself and that led to (understandable) tension. Time passed and I don't think that, after that meeting, Kondou knew Aihara kept visiting me. As far as he saw it, I was oppressing his boyfriend and Aihara was powerless to stop me. He seemed to have such little faith in that partner of his because that wasn't the matter at all, but if Aihara hadn't told him then I wasn't going to either.

It had carried on like that, somehow. Just every once in a while, when he couldn't take it or I was in the area, we'd meet. Like some kind of habit, some kind of ritual, something completely apart from anything else in our lives and something so closely tethered to the forgotten past, even we didn't talk of our reasoning. I wondered if Aihara even _had_ any reasoning behind this; I had little, myself. Just that, whenever I went to France, I'd see if he wanted to meet. He did. We worked from there.

I supposed it some kind of betrayal to Keigo, but that thought barely crossed my mind. He wasn't anything to do with this. He was a permanent fixture in my life, a solid _fact_. Aihara was... Aihara was nothing, in comparison. And yet on a lower level we were drawn together, attracted through something terrible that neither of us had ever been able to shake. Something so entirely physical it barely made an impact on the mental and what is day-to-day life but a series of mental events? We did this because we couldn't stop ourselves, that was all it was. And perhaps that made us weak, but I'd never seen myself as strong. He was the pupil and I his teacher and there was nothing left to instruct him on but that didn't matter. Our power was gone from an unstable world, we were powerful in different ways now, ways that didn't involve each other. But we two remembered that world we'd left and we returned to it during those times, just a little.

Our world had been one of fake princes and princesses, all of us living a lie we were happy to perpetuate. It had all been based on lies, but I'd look at Aihara afterwards and wonder if he was one of the true princes. A true prince in this modern world, barely even realising it. He'd had and still held a nobility I'd never been able to touch, let alone destroy. I think I envied him, somewhat.

But, the real world doesn't have such fantastical figures. I'd berate myself for my line of thought, afterward.

I'd return home, those events gone from my mind. Keigo would ask me how the trip to France went, and I'd tell him that it'd been fine. Nothing unexpected, just a quiet week in Europe. The weather was nice and the company pleasant. He says he should come with me on one of these trips. I smile, and say that he should.


	24. Real

~24~

Real

Sometimes I look at him, and he overwhelms me. Even in the smallest thing, just the fact that he exists seems something amazing in itself.

I look at him and wonder where this came from. Perhaps the act of living with somebody like this breeds a kind of familiarity, but it was deeper than that. Something harsher. Something _more_.

Sometimes.

When he sits on the sofa, his laptop on his lap, his glasses on, drinking coffee. The snow outside. It's warm in here, but steam still rises from the mug. He doesn't notice me as I watch him. He notices me eventually and the small spell is broken but that doesn't stop it.

It occurred to me then and it occurs to me now.

I love him.

_I love him_.

Like a slow realisation, like the snow melting in the garden. There's no need to be tethered by thoughts of Takumu anymore, because I don't need them.

_I don't want them_.

This is a life where I'm alive and without Takumu, but with Keigo. And maybe that's better.

We lie in bed at night and I can't stop looking at him. In the afterglow he looks so exhausted, but even that is attractive when it's him. When he's made me _feel_. When we're together like this. We stare at each other silently, still holding hands. He brushes hair away from my eyes, I put my hand over his. I know that I don't deserve him. I wonder if he knows this? Maybe he does, but doesn't care. I wish I could be so detached but I'm so scared, sometimes. I can't feel this without feeling nervous, without remembering. You shouldn't trust me, Keigo.

We should be asleep, but we're not. Keigo strokes my hair and I hear his soft voice murmur.

"... Why... were you scared...?"

My eyes move in his direction, but I don't look at him.

"... Scared?"

"... You were nervous."

I try to laugh it off, "Why would I be nervous..."

"That's what I'm asking you."

The repetitive movement of his hand over my head is comforting.

"... Maybe I've always been scared..."

"You were scared with Takumu, weren't you?"

"... To start with. I got used to him."

"... Are you used to me?"

"... I think so."

It felt like I'd mostly been able to overcome such things. Back in the past, where a mere touch or the slightest of physical contact could render me nervous, I liked to think I'd come a long way. And yet still, sometimes, occasionally, when Keigo took the lead, I'd find myself reverting to that mindset, just a little. The moment of heightened panic, the sudden adrenaline in a situation that didn't suit it. And I trusted Keigo, I trusted him so much and he was strong and so I could fight it, but he still noticed. And perhaps if he noticed, for him to be aware was better.

"... I suppose I've always been protective of my personal space, haven't I...?"

"You're not scared when you're in control, though."

Keigo always was quite straightforward with such things. "... It doesn't seem so, does it...?"

"... It just seems... a little strange, that's all. When, back then, you did so much. When you'd overpower others, when you'd make them beg you, when you smiled as they screamed... perhaps that's the power of being in control, but it just... seems like such a contrast, that's all. It's almost difficult to remember that you're the same person."

"... Don't you think that the significance of a touch can be frightening?"

He didn't reply to that, encouraging me to explain myself.

"... When somebody else touches you. When you don't know what that means. If they touch your shoulder, or if they hold your hand... or even if they kiss you, or more... I always wanted to know everything, Keigo. You know that. But that... that seems like such a thing that you can't predict or learn or even tell, not easily. If you asked someone to tell you what a touch meant, could they even tell you? And yet... at least with Takumu... that kind of thing meant so much to me, and that I could be moved so much, that scared me too. And yet... I suppose I wasn't _frightened_."

"Rather than scaring you, he thrilled you."

"... You could say that. And you know how I was back then, so obsessed with him... once it was over between us, that became a precious memory I didn't want anybody to disturb, I suppose. It was alright if I spoilt other's perceptions of it, because 'this' was a horrible thing I'd tainted. Not the beautiful thing Takumu and I had shared." I laughed, "... Of course, that's just a childish assumption. I didn't know what I was doing, back then."

"It's still a powerful thing to use as a weapon though, isn't it?"

This was true, but I wasn't quite sure what Keigo meant by it. I looked up at him with slight confusion, "... Why... are you asking that...?"

He shook his head, "... No particular reason. I just felt that you were still scared somehow, and I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to prevent that. I never wanted you to be frightened of me."

"... And you always did what I asked you to, which meant that I never had to be. But it's been far too long, as I said... it's only a childish thing, the part of me that believed that 'that' was some kind of thing that only Takumu and I possessed... when you feel something like that for the first time, when it's so powerful... you feel like you're the first and only person in the world ever to feel that, don't you?"

"... Yes."

I supposed Keigo had experience of this too from being in love with me right from our days at school, but then I supposed it was also different in that he'd been in love with me, he'd loved me and he _still had me_. I'd loved Takumu, but that was a long time ago and I'd had to force myself out of that association. Perhaps Keigo had never had to, seeing as how things were at the moment. The more I thought of it, the more part of me envied him for the same reasons that I found myself jealous of Aihara and it irritated me because such a feeling had no _point_; being jealous of Aihara and Keigo for ending up with the people they'd loved so dearly... perhaps there was some kind of rationalisation in that, but it was useless because _I_ was the one that Keigo loved dearly, he was with me, we were together. There was no reason to be jealous of what he had because, by all rights, I had it too... but I didn't and I knew that I didn't, because Keigo hadn't been that mythical 'first love', and it was just his own good fortune that I had been his. And that couldn't be helped. After all, how many people truly end up with their first love? That was nothing to feel jealous of. Envious, perhaps, but not jealous.

"... After that, I made sure nobody else was so gentle. If I could break them, if I held the power over them then they could only fear me. And perhaps some of them felt similarly thrilled by that, but the bonds made sure they would never touch me. Not like _that_. Not like... like something I couldn't explain. It seemed very clear-cut, back then..."

"... So I suppose, since Takumu, I've been the first who's been... like _that_..."

Since school, there had been others, but mostly women I'd felt little for. Sometimes, back then, I'd felt that I should put the effort in to make myself feel, but the more I tried, the more isolated I felt. Even when they were the ones trying to overpower me, it never worked. Sometimes it didn't work at all. I blamed stress, they believed that easily enough. I suppose, by now, through those experiences, it was safe enough to assume that I was indeed gay, though I'd never quite accepted it back in _those_ days. Silly though that seems, looking back on it. Still, being homosexual or heterosexual bore no particular pressure on the relationship between Keigo and myself, only that he was Keigo and I felt for him like how I didn't for any other person. And yet, what he said wasn't true. There had been one other person, back then.

"I--..."

Maybe it's best that he doesn't know, though.

"Yes?"

... Or maybe there's no harm in it, since it was so long ago?

"... There was... _one_ person. One time. Though, it wasn't something of any consequence."

A long silence.

"... Who was it?"

"... Keigo, it was back when we were at school. It doesn't mean anything anymore."

"And you slept with the entire Student Council and quite a lot of the students around us. I just--... I'm only curious as to what kind of person Wada-senpai would allow close to him, back then."

(... _when it was obvious that nobody else wanted you any longer..._)

"... It's not important."

"So that means it wouldn't be a problem to tell me, either."

(Why do you want to know so badly?)

"... It was during that time when I was using Jinguuji as an entertainment of the Student Council."

Perhaps he tried to fight it, but sat in Keigo's embrace, I felt him tense as I spoke. I continued anyway, since he'd asked.

"I'm sure you remember... don't you? When he was on his final chance, when the school trusted him to me to sort him of his ways. When he stayed in the basement for too long, when he became my personal project. Don't you remember that? Katsuragi?... And I was so cruel to him, but he was strong and would never submit, no matter how hard I worked him. Even when Ouran's Student Council visited, when they wished to _know_ and so I gave them Jinguuji to show them, when they gave him to the Host Club for a week and when he came back... even then, he didn't _break_. He still... his eyes, they were still so... bright. Always with that rebellious shine. That inner knowledge that he wouldn't let me win and the more I tried the more he'd prove it but the more he proved it, the more I wanted to break him... and I had a weapon that he didn't, because I had Nishimura and he didn't. Because Nishimura liked to be hurt and I had no qualms about hurting him. Because I knew I could hurt him with that and I did and those were the only times he ever seemed _weak_, at least to me. If I threatened Nishimura, he'd do anything."

Keigo's breathing seemed deeper, somewhat.

"... It started as anything else did, with his torment. Telling him of Nishimura, of what I could make him do... and Jinguuji, he looked so hateful and jealous and I loved it, I loved that disgust and the envy and that I could do anything, and then... I said the wrong thing, I suppose."

"... What?" He seemed breathless when he spoke, too.

"... I stood above him with a smirk as we stood in the top office room, I looked down on him, and... and I told him..." I sighed. "... I told him to treat me like how he didn't dare to treat Nishimura. I knew how they were and I knew how angry Jinguuji could get, but he intrigued me and I wanted to see what else he was capable of." Another sigh. "... I'd trained him too well, I suppose. He did exactly as I asked."

"... And...?"

I shrugged, "And he did what I asked him to do, what more do you want to hear...? Nishimura was what he wanted most in the world, _who_ he wanted most in the world... and at that time, Nishimura didn't particularly care and the two of them had quite the turbulent relationship. I'm sure you were as aware as I was of them fucking from the Student Council Building to the school gates, but for all that they did, Jinguuji couldn't tell Nishimura how he felt. Knew - or at least thought - that Nishimura wouldn't accept any sort of display of actual _emotion_. Maybe back then he was right, I don't know. Still, I asked, so... so he did, I suppose. And he was so gentle and I was used to such rough things by then, trying to forget any softness after Takumu... perhaps that was 'thrilling', too? Intoxicating. I didn't care for him and I knew he didn't care for me, he was thinking of Nishimura and I was just overwhelmed. Such an attentive lover." I laughed gently, "Nishimura's a lucky man. Still. I'm glad that Jinguuji got what he wanted, in the end."

"He went through so much pain. He deserves being happy."

There was a strange tone to Keigo's voice that made me think he wasn't entirely implying that in which _I'd_ hurt Jinguuji. Of course, the two of them were best friends so I'd assume Keigo to know more on him than I ever did, but it was strange to hear, all the same.

"... Indeed. And that's all that there was, back then. Just the illusion of kindness, though at the time, it moved me quite terribly. Then again, back then my feelings were so haphazard anyway, it's only one event amongst many."

"Mmn..."

"... You didn't need to know any of that, Keigo."

"... I know."

I didn't know whether to berate him for asking in the first place or myself for telling. Indeed, these things were all in the past, as long ago in the past as the events with Takumu and Aihara, but that didn't shake the tension from Keigo's embrace.


	25. Never Anything So Easy

~25~

Never Anything So Easy

It was the height of summer.

Hot days led into balmy nights and we'd stay in the garden until it got dark, far later than we believed it to be. We held parties, we had barbeques. The entire country seemed charged with a heat that brought with it a certain kind of atmosphere, of breaks from work and school and holidays away from home. Keigo and I didn't plan to go anywhere, but there wasn't really anywhere that we wanted _to_ go, either. If there was anywhere he'd wanted to go then I would have taken him there without question, of course. Instead, we had an outdoor swimming pool installed, something that became rather popular at our garden parties.

Humans have a horrible knack of sabotaging their own lives. Such is the world as will, the driving force that keeps us going. If we were to be complacent then we might stop and if we stop, then what's the point in living? For the man who has everything, nothing is desirable. What is a world where nothing is desirable?

One of Keigo's cats, Mookie, fell ill when the hot weather struck. We didn't know what was wrong with her and so we took her to Jinguuji's surgery, where he prescribed some kind of medicine for her. Sure enough, her condition improved after a week or so and the worry lifted from Keigo's brow. We asked Jinguuji if he'd like to come over for one of the garden parties or a barbeque, or if he'd like to stay for any length of time... it turned out that Nishimura was flying to America to promote his latest overseas release, he'd be gone for a week. Having nothing else to do and having trained some competent employees at the surgery, Akihiro felt this a good excuse to take a small holiday. He hadn't been planning on going anywhere otherwise, but with Nishimura travelling to America for this or that, even if it was for work-related reasons, it still seemed a little unfair if he got to go somewhere interesting like that while Jinguuji stayed at home. So, for that week, he came to stay with us.

As time had passed, Jinguuji had made his visits more frequent but this was the first time he'd stayed with us for longer than overnight. However, even in those short visits previous, I'd noticed the energy he always seemed to bring to our house. His friendly unpredictability, his outgoing nature, his carefree and cheerful outlook on life... every time he visited, I felt happy for it. As if being in close proximity to that level of happiness somehow brightened Keigo and myself, too. He never seemed to get bored and he never seemed to stop smiling. I'd look at him now and think of how he was back at school and think of how he'd changed and how much for the better that was.

Had Keigo and I changed so much? Did Jinguuji look at us in private and think the same thing, or were we the same as we ever were? Well, if I was anything near the same as I'd been at Seirei then I found it unlikely that Jinguuji would even tolerate me, let alone _like_ me. The friendship seemed such a strange thing when viewed through the filter of the past, but we _had_ changed and we'd hopefully matured somewhat, so that now somebody like Akihiro was tamer and somebody like me could indeed be friends with him, after all of this time.

We told him to bring Nishimura over at some point, we thought it'd be interesting to see him. Akihiro said that he'd suggest it, but wasn't sure if he'd agree. He didn't say it in so many words, but basically he was concerned as to how Nishimura would react when in my presence and I didn't blame Jinguuji for this concern at all. I was lucky to be friendly with Jinguuji after everything but you couldn't hope for the same result in every case and likely, if asked about it, Nishimura would still harbour some kind of resentment. I didn't know what kind of person he was now. Jinguuji had changed so much and in every aspect for the better, but perhaps Nishimura was the same as he always was. Who could say. He was so busy these days with his music career anyway, it was a surprise that even Jinguuji got to see him for any length of time... instead, we listened to his music. I hadn't liked it back at Seirei, but he's come a long way since those days and I quite like his music, now.

When we were children, didn't summer seem to last forever? The promise of the summer days seemed to be of a time that would last forever, school some featureless obstacle that would never reach us. It was easy to believe in 'forever', then.

I let Keigo check my email for me. I asked him every day if there was anything interesting contained within my inbox. There never was.

We seemed to develop some skill at the barbeque, as time went on. Hardly the most healthy of foods but we worked off what we could in the swimming pool afterward. Akihiro had told us of the summer he'd been to America, he'd had so many barbeques then, and with such different food, too. I smiled and told him that that'd been where I'd got the initial idea from, with my own foreign visits. I still had some chocolate left over from my recent visit to Sweden, so the three of us ate those as we watched the stars emerge. Akihiro told us of when he'd been a child growing up in Hokkaido; I didn't know if Keigo knew of this, but I hadn't. I was quite surprised, though it seemed that he'd moved when he was very young, young enough to have moved in time to be at Seirei Primary alongside our contemporaries. He spoke wistfully of the wide open spaces and the way the sky had seemed endless, the stars that shined without being fettered by streetlights and city movement. This estate was on the edge of the city, but you could still hear it when you were outside, filling up the silence. I said that we were lucky to see the stars here, since in some of the deeper city suburbs, sometimes you might never see a true darkness. Keigo wondered what a starless night in Hokkaido was like. Akihiro said that the three of us should go on holiday there sometime, if we wanted to get away from it all. He still had relatives over there, apparently.

Akihiro was the one who noticed it first, that I was calling him 'Akihiro' rather than 'Jinguuji'. It wasn't until he pointed it out that I realised I'd been tossing the two terms around in my mind for a while, that I must have spoken without realising. It had been quite some time ago that he'd said I could refer to him as 'Akihiro', but I'd never been able to get used to it, not back then at least. It seemed that I had now, though perhaps with time spent in the presence of both he and Keigo, it was inevitable that I would pick up Keigo's habits. And yet it didn't quite feel like that; it felt... natural, somehow. I liked the feeling.

We sat in the garden, the radio in the kitchen carrying through to where we sat. One of Nishimura's songs came on, we listened to it in silence as we had the song before and would the song after. Keigo was asleep in his chair and Akihiro sat with his eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep. The soft, wistful expression he held as he listened to Nishimura's voice made my heart ache, somehow. I didn't know what that meant.

The more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that I didn't deserve people such as Keigo or Akihiro in my life. As we sat under the heat of the fading day, I wondered if this was really what 'happiness' felt like. If this kind of supreme contentment was what it felt like to really be _happy_. Thought about how, if that were so, I hadn't needed Takumu to be happy after all and wondered, if I could go back in time and tell my younger self that, if he'd listen to me at all. Likely not.

I remembered that sunny day during which I'd felt such a private happiness, something I couldn't remember now. Just as all I remembered of Takumu was a memory of having felt pain rather than the pain itself, so too was the happiness of that time. The memories I'd wished to keep. I kept them, but not how I'd wanted to, back then. This was happiness now, though. Was this happiness like that happiness? That had been such an overtaking and carefree kind of joy. This was more sedate, more mellow. I could remember pain, but this right now, this wasn't pain. I wasn't hurting. I was with people I valued and it was quiet and comfortable and somehow, everything in my life had brought me to this point where I could say that I was _happy_. I wondered if Takumu was happy right now. I realised I didn't care.

Instead I wondered if it might be a good time to die, during such a period of contentment. Such thoughts always seemed to haunt me; even from my teenage years, if I'd thought of death it was never because I wanted to _die_ as per se, only because I'd wanted my situation to change and hadn't known how to do it (though I seemed to have ended up fine despite all of that). Yet when I was happy, I considered such things too. Not because I was unhappy nor because I wanted to die, but because the thought of dying in such happiness felt so desirable compared to any opposite. Might I ever feel happiness like this again? I would never kill myself, but that happiness made me wonder if I should.

I smiled as I gazed out towards the city. We really _were_ all broken, weren't we? Even in the midst of an atmosphere so comfortable I could cry for the happiness I felt, I was thinking of what it would be like to die, to end here, to end happily. What a twisted thought, surely? And yet, the kind I'd always entertain, in these quiet moments. I'd never tell even Keigo of what I thought, it was my private thought alone... and of course, if I were to tell him, it would only worry him. It wasn't worth it over a theoretical.

It was the evening of the last day Akihiro spent with us of that week.

It was an evening in the height of summer.

It was the evening in the height of summer when I told Akihiro that I loved him.

I don't even know why I did it.

We stood in the kitchen. Keigo was elsewhere, but Akihiro had gone to the kitchen to make coffee and I'd followed him. He was leaving in the morning and the thought of him leaving brought a heaviness harder than I would ever have expected, like _I should stop him from leaving if it takes everything I have_ and I didn't know why I was feeling like that and it scared me, somewhat. I loved Keigo, I knew this, Keigo who was so loyal and steadfast and determined, in his own way... but hadn't I thought it before, wondered why I loved him? If it was truly simply circumstance, that he'd been around for so long I'd got 'used' to him, that he'd helped me in my darkest moments and I'd kept him close for the comfort that he brought? When I wondered if I loved him, when I wondered if that feeling was 'enough'... and this feeling, whatever it was... this feeling for Akihiro, it was different. I'd always found him an impressive individual, right from our time at Seirei Gakuen. Somebody with such a sturdy will and with such strength of character, someone even I hadn't been able to break... I'd thought him impressive then and as we met for the second time, I still found him so even now. Now he was impressive in his confidence, that character changed but so wonderfully, that light-hearted attitude that seemed to carry him through life...

I wondered if I'd 'settled' for Keigo. If I'd accepted him because I'd believed, as he'd said, that if it hadn't been for him, then there'd be nobody else. And after Takumu, I hadn't _wanted_ anybody else. I hadn't _wanted_ Keigo, but I'd needed him, somewhat. After Takumu, I didn't know what I felt, _if_ I felt. And now I saw Akihiro, and I thought that I wanted him. I wanted him in my life, I wanted him here more often and I wanted him as more than a friend. I wanted to always be able to see his smile, I wanted to cause that smile, I wanted to cause that wistful expression when he was reminded of me. I wanted him. I _wanted_, I really did. And it was childish and it was wrong but I'd long since thought I'd stopped feeling enough to have any feelings I wanted to regulate and when the thought occurred that he'd be leaving soon, back to Nishimura, it was on some kind of panic reflex that I reacted.

I wanted him. His smile. His attitude. His way of being. I wanted a gentle and attentive lover, as he'd been that one time so long ago. And Keigo was, I would never have said that Keigo wasn't, but Keigo wasn't Akihiro. And Akihiro wasn't Takumu, but the two of them had something in common; they _impressed_ me. I admired them. Wasn't that how Keigo had come to be attracted to me in the first place, because I'd been his impressive senpai? Akihiro was a year older than we were. Technically, didn't that make him also an impressive senpai?

Did I want him more than Keigo? Was I willing to risk Keigo in order to have him? Was it likely he'd reciprocate? My mind didn't give these considerations more than a moment's thought before I told him. I only knew that I had to tell him and I had to tell him now, while we were alone, while Keigo wasn't around to hear.

And so I told him.

He stared at me and I stared back in return. Looked into his eyes. Didn't regret my words. He came forth and pulled me into a tight embrace and I wondered what that meant

_the significance of a touch_

and I felt a little frightened, but I knew that Akihiro wasn't somebody to be frightened of

because he thrilled me

and I clasped my hands around his shoulders and held him like I didn't want to let go, because I didn't. And he kissed my forehead and leant his head on my shoulder, his lips then so close to my ear and his breath a tickle against my skin and he whispered, a whisper I yearnt for so terribly all of a sudden made all the more painful for his words

"... I think... we should both forget that you ever said anything... right... Yoshikuni?"

I couldn't say anything. He pulled away, his hands still on my shoulders. I looked at him and then realised that I was embarrassed, and so looked away.

"You've got Keigo to consider."

"... And you've got Nishimura." The way I spoke, it was almost like a challenge. I've got Keigo, you've got Nishimura, but what does that matter? I looked at him and saw a faint echo of surprise on his expression. I felt the vague frown of a glare answer him and then I too fell into confusion. I hadn't felt like _that_ for so long... that kind of sexual challenge, that kind of confrontation, taking what I wanted because I could and not caring of the consequences. It reminded me of how I used to be and it scared me and I think it scared Akihiro too, but he realised it scared me and cupped my cheek briefly instead. He acted as if I hadn't said anything, which was perhaps for the best.

"... You've got Keigo to consider, Yoshikuni. And it always pissed me off that he chose you, because for so long I hated you. Took me a long time before I could get used to the idea of even tolerating you, let alone _liking_ you... but because Keigo liked you so much, I made the effort. And it paid off because I _do_ like you now, genuinely, and I won't let you spoil that. But... Keigo--... he's my dearest friend, and if you ever do anything to hurt him as much as you're suggesting, then I'll never ever be able to forgive you, not ever."

He dropped his hands from my shoulders with a sigh.

"... But he's hurt so much in the past, I wonder if it's even possible for you to hurt him anymore..."

He had such a truth in his eyes that I didn't understand, "... What do you mean?"

"Oh, come _on_, Yoshikuni. You took an innocent boy who had innocent feelings for you and turned him into your personal slave, just because you could! Not even because you felt anything for him, but because he was there and you could take advantage of him, as you took advantage of everybody who wasn't that _fucking_ Kirihara. Because of him, it was okay to hurt Keigo so much? It wasn't okay to hurt anybody so much, but you hurt _everybody_, Yoshikuni. Because if you couldn't be happy then damn if anybody else was going to be happy, right? So Keigo threw himself into his role as your slave, because you put up with it, because you encouraged it, because you never told him to stop being so fucking pathetic and grow a spine and just tell you how he felt like I was always telling him to, but he would never have listened to it because I wasn't you and you were the only important one, and how do you think that made _me_ feel, my best friend in such a stupid hopeless situation acting to the perverted whims of some psychopathic social climber?" He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his temples, sighing heavily. "_Jesus_. You turned him into something I couldn't understand anymore. He'd be happy when you hurt him because you were the one who was hurting. What kind of fucked-up reasoning is that? Between Keigo and Shin I seemed to be surrounded by these people who got off on being hurt and it freaked me the fuck out, you know? I couldn't stand what Keigo was becoming and I couldn't stop him. And you wouldn't stop him, because you never even fucking noticed."

I was at a loss for words.

"... If someone doesn't notice then how are they ever supposed to do anything..."

"I know, I _know_. It's like, it's everybody's fault and nobody's fault all at the same time, I shouldn't be taking this out on you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just... it's bothered me right since we were in school together but then he told me he'd got with you all of a sudden and that he was really happy and it was like... well, maybe this is how it should be, since you were the person he always wanted, isn't it best he gets what he wanted after all this time? So that was when I really decided I had to be happy for him and for you and for you guys getting together, and figured that if I'd changed since we were at school then there was no reason why you couldn't have changed too, and I let Keigo talk about you and I came to visit you and I really believed you _had_ changed, Yoshikuni. You'd become the kind of guy who was maybe worthy of my Keigo and maybe it'd all be okay after all. And then you come out with something like this and it makes me wonder, that's all."

I leant against the kitchen counter and smiled up at Akihiro, despite myself.

"... Have I managed to spoil everything with my own two hands once again?"

"... If we keep this between us, then Keigo won't know. I won't tell him, in any case. We've put a lot behind us to get this far, Yoshikuni... it'd be a shame to let that all go."

He had such a straightforward and mature style that I felt quite humbled by his presence. I could only agree with him, "... Indeed."

We made the coffee and went through to the living room, where Keigo was watching television. We spent the rest of the evening acting as if nothing had happened and I was almost able to forget what I'd said, apart from after Akihiro had gone to bed, when Keigo went up to bed before me. I followed after him and went to the bedroom door to find it locked; I felt a horrible fear seize my heart and it took me a long time before I could settle to sleep in one of the other guest bedrooms. Despite this, Keigo didn't mention anything come the morning; we waved Akihiro off as he left and went back to as things were, the emptiness the house possessed for being devoid of Akihiro giving enough change to help us both adjust.

We were all used to forgetting things, or at least to putting the unpleasant things behind us; Akihiro visited a few more times over the course of the summer, one time even managing to bring Shin with him too. He too had become quite handsome in his advancing years and I was taken aback by this and I wondered if my feelings were truly so fickle. It took a while for Shin to warm up to my company but once he did, he came across as an earnest man and I enjoyed his company, but I couldn't shake a vague sense of jealousy at the back of my mind for that which existed between he and Akihiro.


	26. At The End Of The World

~26~  
_at the end of the world, we went our separate ways_

I stood against the kitchen counter and realised that the trees outside told of autumn. The year moved on and the seasons advanced, the heady days of heat and comfort, the laziness and the contentment would fade into the scent of leaves burning on the breeze, the leaves turning their hue brilliant one last time before dying, before leaving the land bare for the final season. Already, some of the trees in the garden were beginning to speak of this oncoming change, the leaves fallen onto the lawn leaving skeletal branches reaching hopelessly into the sky and leaving a silhouette against the horizon; clouds scudded against the fading light and I set to work on the last of the washing-up as Keigo sat at the dinner table and gently sipped from a steaming mug of tea. There was silence between us but I thought little of it, so little needing to be spoken between us in the first place. His presence was enough and I was used to his manner. He too stared out of the main kitchen window.

"... I, too, loved Akihiro."

I remained at the sink, unable to move.

"... That's... unprompted, Keigo..."

"Not particularly. Would you still say that you loved him?"

"... I'm not in a position to make a decision like that. ... I love _you_, Keigo." I looked to the ring on my finger as I spoke, though not to Keigo himself. Wasn't that proof enough?... Did we _need_ such a proof? Summer brings heat and heat brings confusion.

"But do you also love Akihiro?"

"... I don't know what I feel. I was just... I was just confused, that's all."

"He's sensible, and he'd never do anything to risk what he has with Nishimura."

"... I know."

The silence between us felt charged, all of a sudden. Uncomfortable. I finished the washing-up and put the last plate on the rack before I turned around to lean against the counter, now facing Keigo. He still drank from his tea and looked towards the garden, not towards me. I frowned slightly.

"... You loved him?"

"Perhaps I still do."

I didn't know how to react to that.

"... Keigo..."

He looked at me, briefly. He placed the tea down upon a coaster.

"I too was confused, I suppose. When he was held back that year, when nobody else would approach him. I think... I think we both had a disregard for those around us, though for different reasons. We took it out in different ways, too."

"... How do you mean...?"

"It wasn't until I was friends with him that I realised I wasn't alone in thinking most people pointless and irritating. I retreated into myself and did what was expected of me, but I... I suppose part of me, back then, always looked down on the rank and file around me, thinking that I could do better but not knowing how. Being told that our family wasn't eligible for Ouran didn't help, of course."

I had experience of that, too. Of course, we all did. Seirei was the best school of the area, but no parent would choose to send their child to Seirei if there was even the slightest possibility that they might succeed at Ouran. I too had felt the disregard that Keigo described and I wonder if we all had at some point, but now in retrospect I wonder if it might have been the same even if we _had_ made the cut, after all. There was a popular stereotype around Seirei at least back then, that all Ouran students were stuck-up rich snobs with more money (and power, the crucial thing) than sense. And that was perhaps so. Might we have felt better about ourselves to have gone there? Maybe, at the time. Would we have looked down on those around us still? Yes. Yes, I think we would. The more power one possesses over others, the more people there are to look down on. As the Student Council, we were the top of Seirei but that still wasn't enough for Ouran and we all knew that. I was clever enough, I passed the Ouran entrance exams with distinction, but Ouran was not a school run on academic achievement alone. And now, in our corporate world, I rank slightly higher than that Ootori and as much as he won't let me forget our childhoods, so too won't I let him forget that. I _worked_ to get where I was today. That's something Ouran doesn't seem to encourage teaching.

It came as a faint surprise that Keigo too should feel such a thing, though. I was so used to his character that I didn't question it nor particularly wondered what had shaped it. And yet, that made sense. We'd all felt that and he wasn't an exception. I let him continue.

"... Akihiro took his frustration out in a far more vulgar style, frequently getting in fights and arguing with teachers, trying to rail against the system for the sake of something to _do_. And yet so many of those fights, he was provoked into... he looked the part but his personality didn't support it. As much as I was willing to play the part of the studious introvert for the sake of hiding my true opinions, so too did he believe that being the 'rebel' was an easier label. When you're fighting - so he told me - you don't have to think, only to fight, to survive, to _win_. And he was good at that, but every victory felt hollow, to him. He didn't like hurting people."

Keigo sipped at his tea, seeming to enjoy the silence. He put it down again, sighing.

"... I... I couldn't help him. That's... that's what I regret most. The most painful thing. That he went through so much. I only found out about his mother abusing him because I dared ask, because I knew that he hadn't taken all of those bruises from fighting... but it was easier that way, he said. Better people believe he'd got them through fighting than his home life coming into question. Aside from anything else, there was his younger sister to consider... and then there was the business with _her_, which came as a tough blow... and even when his mother died--... but of course, that was so recent compared to the rest. Just... he carried so much with him that he wouldn't let anybody else know of. So much I only found out about after the fact, too late to help because he felt he had to cope on his own... and I wanted him to know that I was there for him, but I didn't know how to tell him, _if_ I could tell him... and then his 'relationship' with Nishimura developed, and... well. You know about _that_."

"... Abused..."

Keigo's gaze was even, "Why do you think you were never able to break him, Yoshikuni? Life had dealt him such a bad hand, what you put him through was practically nothing compared to that despicable mother of his."

It did explain a lot. I felt a rush of concern for Akihiro, so many years too late. If only I'd known at the time... but at the same time, I knew that he would never have admitted anything about that to _me_, of all people. If anybody then it would have been to Keigo and it seemed that even to Keigo, Akihiro was reluctant. As Keigo said, Akihiro had clearly been the type to try and shoulder everything to himself, one of those types who grew up long before he should have done. At the time I'd loathed his behaviour in my capacity as the head of the Student Council, but I felt that I understood it all now. Perhaps I didn't understand it all, but what I remembered suddenly seemed to click as making far more sense now than it had done back then. Back then it had been black and white, Akihiro rebelled against the school rules and so I had to punish him for it. His reasons were his own and I hadn't cared for them, back then. Then again, back then I hadn't cared for much at all.

"... I felt so hopeless, so useless. I'd offer what help I could to Akihiro, he'd just smile and tell me that it was enough that I was there for him, that there was nothing I could really do. And maybe that was true, but I still hated it."

I stepped away from the kitchen counter and went to the table myself, pulling out a chair and tucking myself in, sat opposite to Keigo. I still didn't know how to respond to all of this. "... If only I'd known..."

"Yes, well. However, at the same time... at the same time was when I became aware of you, Yoshikuni. You who stood out against the mediocrity of the rest of the student population, someone who seemed shining and wonderful and confident and interesting. Of course, you know of how I got into the Student Council, of how I wanted to support you and how you enabled me to follow you... and like that, it felt like my condescending nature towards those around us was justified, because _I _was part of the Student Council and _they_ weren't. And part of me felt that I should feel bad for such a frame of mind, but a larger part thought it true and so didn't care." Keigo smiled, "... I suppose, like that, even if I hadn't known it to begin with, I was perfect for the Student Council. Don't you think?"

I smiled back at him, "... I always thought you too kind for the Council, myself. Especially in the latter half. You always seemed so... so self-deprecating, I suppose."

"Doesn't it seem better when somebody who rightfully has something to boast about keeps it quiet? I could have extolled the virtues of my achievements, but that wasn't my place in the social hierarchy. As a member of KISS I had to be desirable, not smug. Before the Student Council, I couldn't believe myself good enough. Once I was on the Student Council, even if it was only because you'd got me there, I had that step-up to a kind of confidence, whether it was truly deserved or not."

"... Being on the Student Council always seems to have a strange effect on people."

"It's the first time you're really allowed to wield some kind of power, I suppose. Teachers always remained a distant kind of force but if you were a Student Council that the students respected then you had more power than any teacher could ever hope to have."

"... Respected, or in our case, feared..."

"Even that was a feat in itself, Yoshikuni."

I leant my head against one curled fist, "... It would have been nicer to have been respected rather than feared, though."

"I don't think you can choose these things, though. Oh, would you like some tea...? I'll put the kettle on."

It seemed that Keigo had run out of tea; he was out of his seat before I could agree or disagree, though the thought of a cup of tea did seem quite desirable. I watched his back as he went to the counter, brought out another mug and set about the tea and the sugar and the spoons and the other small things. The small domestic things I so admired him for. There seemed something natural about it, about him, when we'd make dinner together or set the table for an evening party, when I'd wash up and he'd dry, when we took turns to cook and slipped neatly into our small but important self-appointed roles. So too was that a kind of power, but a benevolent one. Of course, if neither of us did the washing then it'd never be done, but there was still something attractive about the prospect. That this was a home that we'd created, that we sustained. And maybe Akihiro had something similar with Nishimura, but that wasn't our business. It was in those moments that I knew I could never leave Keigo, not even if Akihiro were to offer himself openly.

Perhaps if he were to do that then Keigo might also accept. Would the dynamic be the same if it were the three of us? I wondered how such things worked. The presence of Nishimura made it only an idle concern but from Keigo's tone of voice and manner of speaking on Akihiro, it made me wonder if he'd be adverse to the idea. Not that there could ever be more than the idea, of course. Keigo returned to the table bearing two steaming mugs of tea. I accepted mine, and he continued.

"... However. Aside from all of that... there was the intoxicating effect that you had on me, how I felt I could follow you for the rest of my life and to the edge of existence if you so asked me to, and there was also the prestige that came from being a member of Seirei's Student Council, of course... but I still retained that feeling from before and I knew that, as a member of the Student Council, I could be of some help to Akihiro. I knew that the Student Council was in charge of punishment and I was determined to do my best to be lenient on him because I _knew_, even if nobody _else_ did. Or _could_. And it did seem to work, didn't it?"

I laughed gently, "There were many times he should have been suspended or expelled that he wasn't... and as you say, I didn't know any of that, but I knew he was your close friend and, at the time, I supposed that if somebody was your close friend then they had to have some redeeming feature, so I was maybe kinder to him than my conscience told me I should have been. And all for the best in the end, I suppose."

"... So my influence did have some effect. However, that seemed to drive us further apart... he knew I had feelings for you and by that time he was already tying himself in knots with Nishimura, and I couldn't tell him that the feelings I had for you were different to what I had to _him_... it was as if you were some distant treasure to marvel over, but I could never hope to have you or even be near you...! On the other hand, I was close to Akihiro, but it... it didn't seem to be enough and I hated it, I really hated it. That I couldn't be satisfied with something like that. Then you confided in me, told me about Kirihara... and he too seemed a marvellous person, far beyond my league... and it made sense that you and he should strike a chord, being two wonderful people like that, but... I couldn't stop him, I couldn't stop you, I couldn't stop Nishimura, I couldn't stop Akihiro. Shin hurt him, was so callous and hateful and did what he liked... and you were so obsessed with Kirihara, all I could do was exist as a bit-part to your life and the same to Akihiro, and it... I didn't know what to do. I couldn't be with somebody I was close to, I couldn't be with somebody distant to me. I didn't know who I wanted more, only that I wanted but couldn't have and didn't know what to do."

"... And then the punishment started."

"... I think those times brought out something terrible in each and every one of us. And yet, in the apathy of those times, it felt like we could do anything and it didn't matter. Then you and Kirihara fell apart, and I suppose I saw my chance. Because you'd dragged us all down with you, there was nothing left to lose."

"... I'm... sorry, about that." It had been so long ago, but I felt the need to apologise anyway.

Keigo merely smiled into his tea, "It's too late for apologies, Yoshikuni."

He was right.

He leant back against the chair, "... Don't you remember me telling you recently, saying that... what was it... that a person who can't support himself, even if he can support others, is weak? That it was easier to do what you asked, because it prevented me from my own desire..."

Of course I did. "... I remember..."

"As long as I submitted to you, I didn't have to think about Akihiro. I didn't have to feel that angry, sorrowful rage for all of the unfair things that had happened to him, I didn't have to feel frustration for being unable to tell him my feelings, I didn't have to feel jealous of his relationship with Nishimura... I didn't have to feel anything. I only had to do what you told me to do and there was a terrible kind of relief in that, in being able to be so entirely submissive. I wouldn't have breathed if you hadn't told me to and the release of only having to worry about fulfilling your commands... I couldn't help Akihiro, but Akihiro was nothing to do with you. Maybe some people called me cruel and heartless back then alongside you, and maybe that's true, but... sometimes, I just wanted to forget and you were the excuse that let me. I can't--... I can't even express it how I felt it. Just that... because you had power over me, because you impressed me, you also made me able to forget. And maybe I forgot everything else alongside it, but back then, sometimes I'd wish I could stop feeling altogether just so I wouldn't have to face the confusion. And maybe we were unforgivable, but I think we all had our reasons, deep down."

I leant into caged fingers, "... You were trying to forget, I was trying to find amusement in a world that didn't interest me once Takumu abandoned me, such as it felt like, back then... I can only speak for him, but... he too had things he wanted to suppress, to forget. The part of him that needed attention, that needed people to _watch_... I didn't like the idea of him being a model for that reason, because I knew what significance it held for him. I knew the rush of power it gave him to know that so many people were watching him and thinking him beautiful. It excited him and even after what we had was over, he was still weak if I was _watching_ him. ... Moritaka and Kudou, I couldn't speak for."

"Being on the Student Council seemed to intensify everything, didn't it?"

"It seemed like the most important thing in the world... and of course, now, we know it barely held any impact at all. Ah, if only we could tell our teenage selves that!"

Keigo drew one finger back and forth against the polished wood surface, slowly, deliberately. He was staring at me with a sober expression, devoid of the faint amusement my tone had suggested; I let my smile fade, but he kept watching me. Then he glanced down at nothing in particular.

"... I seemed to be plagued by jealousy. I was jealous of Nishimura for stealing Akihiro from me, even if Akihiro had never been mine to begin with... I was jealous of Kirihara for turning your attentions so, even if I could never have been spectacular enough for you in the first place... and then, as time went on, I was jealous of you also for being able to manipulate Akihiro so. When you'd punish him. Those few times I was able to touch him, when he forgave me because he knew me under your command but I couldn't forgive myself for lying even with a touch... and yet, if it wasn't for those times I might never have touched him at all, and so I treasured them, perverted and terrible as we were. Back then, such things seemed my only outlet. Even trapped in such a situation there was still the occasional favourable outcome, even if it was only for that brief time we spent like that, back at school. I could never bring myself to be close to him as I wished, and even that I was only able to achieve because you'd been the one to instigate it."

I frowned momentarily, remembering something.

"... Didn't Akihiro mention that the two of you had lived together during university, though...?"

Keigo laughed humourlessly, looking off to the side. "I had been about to mention that. Yes, yes we did. And no, I never told you. That time... such as you always told me of your precious memories with Kirihara, so too I suppose was that my precious memory of Akihiro and myself. When Nishimura was out of touch, when you existed only as the other side of an email conversation, the other end of the phone... somehow, it had come to just the two of us. And it seemed natural to take that further, after all we'd been through under the thumb of your Student Council... and for such a painfully short time, it felt like things were perfect. I finally felt that I could love him the way I'd always wished, the way I'd never been able to communicate."

"... And then?"

A small shrug, "... And then he told me he felt that we were better off as friends. That his sexual involvements at Seirei had been so mentally stressful, that he preferred the simplicity of friendship, that he treasured being able to have such a thing with me... and that was something in itself, because I was his best friend and really the only friend he'd had through Seirei, and I understood that he didn't want to risk or complicate that... and he was still hurt from losing Nishimura, I knew that. I wanted to comfort him in whatever way I could and I knew that I couldn't take advantage of his pain, and he thought us the same because so too had I lost immediate contact with you, but... but it wasn't _like_ that, and he didn't realise and I didn't dare tell him..."

"... So... even now, you still--...?"

Another bitter laugh, "It's too late to consider such things now."

I felt blank, somewhat. It seemed too strange to consider Keigo this kind of person; all the things that he'd said, the things that he told me... that he was a person with the capability of being jealous, of being condescending, of being detached and of being cruel... and of course he was. He, as much as any of us, had enough reason to be like that. He was only human and we all had our failings and being on the Student Council had brought those to the fore, just... it seemed strange for _him_, somehow. That slightly challenging look in his eyes, his tone of voice, that resentful manner... Keigo had always been selfless and giving, submissive and obedient, distant and benevolent. Hadn't he? Or was that, like his strength, only something I'd been painting him with...? I felt, all of a sudden, like I couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

And that maybe I'd been taking Keigo for granted much more than I'd originally thought. And given the breadth of that feeling, so too was that thought quite sobering.

"And... myself...?"

Some of that sudden vulnerability slipped out with those words, and Keigo seemed to sense this. His expression was suddenly indescribable and he reached for my hands, which I gave without thinking.

"... I love you, Yoshikuni. Since school, I've admired you, idolised you, loved you. And yet that's always been something separate to what I felt for Akihiro, and the two feelings... it was as if they were irreconcilable." His grip became a little tighter, "... And of course, don't think I wasn't aware of my place in your heart, either."

"... How do you mean?"

"So too as you were able to distract me from Akihiro, so too did you need me to distract you from Takumu. Isn't that right?"

I couldn't lie. "... You don't know how much I wish I could deny that, Keigo."

"And now? Is it still like that now?"

I shook my head, "Of course not--! It's... it's been such a long time, I've spent so much time considering and reconsidering... and I know that I was using you and nothing can forgive that, but... I came to realise that just because you weren't Takumu, that didn't make you any 'less' of a person... I came to appreciate you for _you_, and love you for that..."

Keigo leant back against the chair again, "... Well, then. We're the same, aren't we?"

That casual pose... I felt like I was seeing him for the first time, all over again.

"... How do you mean?"

"Exactly that. You're not Akihiro, but I'm still with you, aren't I? You were the one I came to when I couldn't be with Akihiro anymore and I was the one you came to when you couldn't be with Takumu anymore. Those times didn't exactly coincide, but they came to basically the same eventuality. Maybe we've just been using each other all this time, but does it really feel like that to you...?"

"I--..."

"And then you tell Akihiro that you love him. Isn't that, in some way, a betrayal? If Akihiro had agreed, then you might have cheated on me."

I looked at the table, unable to reply.

"... And yet, if I were in that situation, I would have behaved in exactly the same way. Does that make it right?"

"... It only makes us both wrong."

"And isn't that how we've always been?"

There was a kind of confidence to his words that, like many things about Keigo, I felt I couldn't understand (or, perhaps, more that I didn't _want_ to understand). Instead, rather than consider it, I got up from the kitchen table and walked away from him, walked to the front room, sat down on the sofa. I heard Keigo follow behind me, his footfalls soft against the floor of the corridor. He turned the lights down and joined me on the sofa, sitting in the corner and pulling me into an embrace. I accepted that and held my hands against his where they lay over my chest, but I felt heavy somehow and I couldn't shake it. All of the things he said were true, they were all true and I couldn't argue a case for any of them. I'd treated Keigo like a possession, justifying it against my own pain... and yet, so too had Keigo been following a similar action and yet it seemed to hurt all the more when this truth was voiced. All this time I'd made Keigo very aware of his place in the hierarchy of my life, never quite realising the reality of what it was like to be _in_ that position. And I felt hurt and annoyed that some part of Keigo would value Akihiro higher than he'd value me, and yet... and yet he was right, for so long I'd seen him as a kind of replacement for Takumu, and even discounting that, there was still the fact that I'd made some attempt to get closer to Akihiro myself, ignoring Keigo entirely.

I sighed and leant my head back against his shoulder.

"... What are you thinking...?"

His voice was softer, now. I stared at the ceiling, where the discs of light the lamps caused on the ceiling happened to meet and combine.

"... Even after all this time, we're still unforgivable... aren't we?"

"... Maybe."

Back at Seirei, during those last months, I'd hated my actions. I revelled in hurting others but I also held a belief that, after Takumu, during everything with Aihara, there wasn't a single life I'd come into contact with that I wouldn't ruin somehow. All of those students at Seirei, not just Aihara and Takumu. The others on the Student Council, Nishimura, Akihiro, Kondou, Honma, all those others... and yet somehow we were still able to live a life where we believed in some kind of happiness. Despite my teenage conviction that Takumu would be the only person I'd ever love so much and so deeply, I could still stand here now and say that I loved Keigo. Because I did, I believed that now. And wasn't believing in somebody a kind of trust? A kind of strength? But, I'd always seen Keigo as being strong. The strong, silent type. And he'd said so many things that would purport to weakness and yet that didn't change my belief in his strength. There was still some kind of indescribable quality about him that I had come to rely on and more than happiness or jealousy or sadness, I felt that _that_ was what I loved about Keigo. For all of the words I'd used to describe my feelings for Takumu, so many words for feelings I could no longer even recall, I finally felt comfortable with a feeling I didn't even want to _try_ to describe. Because it existed and I felt it, and that was enough.

I spoke without really thinking about it, saying whatever came to mind. Because, with Keigo, I felt that I _could_.

"... It took me a while to get used to you living here, you know."

"It took me a while to get used to living here, too."

"... When I'd get home, and you'd say 'welcome home'... little things like that. They just felt so... _domestic_, I suppose. When you'd have dinner ready, when the first thing I saw on getting in was your smile, just... everything. I didn't know how to react to it all."

"It felt stranger to say and do those things. But, I'd always been used to doing what you wanted of me, and I felt that that was right... so, even if it felt baffling, I thought that I should do them. For the domestic, for the social, for the personal... if we could do those things that couples did, then maybe it would make us truer."

"... And did it work?"

"... Maybe." There was a playful sound to his voice. I smiled, though I knew he couldn't see it.

"... I always admired Akihiro for being such a steadfast person, back then... and now, he seems so true and sincere..."

"Just what you'd expect from a Taurus."

"... but I think that of you, too. You're true, and sincere, and _real_. And maybe I thought of Takumu too much, was obsessed with that dream of him... but isn't that what a dream is, something that 'isn't real'...?"

"I think it's the nature of dreams to come true, or something like that."

I laughed at that, "And princes on white horses that come bearing gifts of love and eternity. No, but... that with Takumu, that's not real, not anymore. And you are. So, for that, you won over him in the end."

"... Still a victory I didn't fight for."

I brought one of Keigo's hands up to my lips, kissing it gently. "You're not a fighter, Keigo. You never have been. That's what I love about you."

(And I could say such things so easily now. Could _feel_ them.)

(Somewhere along the line, the world started turning again.)

I remembered hearing some time ago, that to be able to love, you... you had to do exactly that. You had to let yourself love. A heart that couldn't love wouldn't let itself be open to being healed, either. And for so long I thought I didn't want that, if I had to love without Takumu - which I felt I couldn't do - then I'd heal with a power that wasn't his, and I rejected any such idea. He was the one that hurt me and so he had to be the one to cure me, that was the only way I'd accept it. And yet somehow, in his self-deprecating understated way (which I still believed existed), Keigo had managed this. And I wasn't Akihiro, I could never be Akihiro, but Keigo knew this and accepted it about me as I'd accepted that he could never be Takumu. It was better that he wasn't Takumu. I was better in this life with somebody who wasn't Takumu.

Like that strength we had which we hadn't realised, so too perhaps had we had that healing effect also. Even if we were only taking what comfort we could find where we could find it, comfort was still comfort and if that turned to something more, then we could only embrace that.

And I hadn't understood Takumu, not at all. He hadn't even tried to let me understand him, uninterested as he was - or had seemed - in understanding me. All that he cared about was that we were incompatible and like that, with that stubborn mindset, I suppose we were. And I hadn't been able to understand Keigo with what seemed like his endless self-sacrifice, but I felt that I did, now. Even if it had been a lie, it was a lie that I could understand.

I leant my forehead against his cheek, leaning up against him.

"... Keigo..."

"Yes...?"

"... Do you... understand me?"

A slight pause. He took one of my hands, pressing his fingers between mine.

"(_maybe it was another self-centred thought, but_)"

"... I always thought that I understood you more than anybody else could.

... I still think that now, too."

He spoke with such conviction that it was all I could do to believe him. To believe _in_ him.

"(_I don't want anybody else to understand you like I understand you_)"

And part of him was still jealous, but jealous for me, so too as I was jealous for him also

And maybe we were unforgivable

but we weren't asking for forgiveness

only each other.

And we had that.

...

(And it was enough.)

(~_end_~)


End file.
